The Return of the Father
by Stars Enchantress
Summary: A summer storm ruins any plans that the occupants of the Burrow may have, but with it comes a unexpected arrival. With it, comes James Potter. Alive and well. Set after GoF.
1. Summer Storms

**The Return of the Father: **Summer Storms

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_James Potter comes back to life after the events of the Triwizard Tournament. His arrival changes everything in his fourteen year old son's life._

_Yes, another James-is-alive story, but one I hope to make my own.

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_**-The Burrow**_

Hermione, Ron and Harry were spread out all over Ron's violently orange room. They'd had a great deal of plans for the day, namely yet another quidditch match for the boys and a swimming hole trip for Hermione and Ginny, after the youngest Weasley had taken pity on Hermione's week of sidelines cheerleading/book reading. Not that Hermione had really minded, but it seemed unfair to Ginny, so she'd graciously offered up an exclusive girls' swim. All plans had been cancelled when the house woke to a vicious clap of thunder and rain pelting the glass of the windows.

Needless to say, it was an awful day for rain.

The two non-redheads had only come to the Burrow the week before. The house was filled to the brim with Weasleys and guests alike. Ginny and Hermione were the only ones to have a small semblance of organization in regards to their rooms.

Fred and George had also managed to retain their room, if only for the health of the entire house… that and no one particularly wanted to share with them. Bill and Charlie had been about to be given the room by Mrs. Weasley, but when she mentioned that they were going into the twin's room both the eldest Weasley boys had instantly turned it down. It was the opinion of the house that they had made the correct choice.

The opinion, that was, of everyone except Percy. The Ministry worker had been forced to let his two older brothers share with him. Harry and Ron had offered up a cot to Bill or Charlie, but both of them turned it down.

Harry knew that this was because of what had happened at the end of the year, but he didn't say anything. They all figured that it was best he just roomed with Ron, who not only knew the whole story of what had happened at the end of the Triwizard Tournament, but also knew how to deal with Harry's nightmares (wake him up immediately, offer to talk and then return to bed without pushing or being all girly about it).

In addition to everyone but Percy agreeing with the room assignments, everyone but him also agreed that Voldemort was back. Percy was living in complete Ministry-induced denial and was following all of Fudge's behaviors. He adamantly believed that Harry was crazy, and made no move to hide it. Mr. Weasley had forced Percy to greet Harry when he had arrived at the house and since then not even a "Pass the peas, please" had been exchanged between them. Harry was quite okay with this.

Sirius had been writing daily, though he didn't have much to say. As far as Harry or Sirius were concerned, there were only so many times they could say "I miss you." Or "I wish you could be here."

Still, Harry was happy his godfather was putting in such effort this summer, when he'd been too busy last summer to write him much of anything, so instead of letting their letters be some run down of his boring day or yet another "I miss you", Harry told Sirius stories of his Hogwarts time, and Sirius did the same for Harry. The Weasley family, save Percy, all knew of Sirius's innocence, though, Mrs. Weasley wasn't pleased about it. Rather, she was pleased he was innocent, just not as pleased that he wanted to be such a presence in Harry's life.

"We can't sit here forever, you know. We should be doing something productive." Hermione stated, breaking Harry from his thoughts.

Ron groaned, "Say 'homework' and you'll be living with the gnomes." He threatened, and from the way he sounded, Hermione decided not to press her luck.

"Don't start." Harry said, exasperated. He loved his best friends, but sometimes, their near constant bickering wore thin… very, _very_, thin. "We could go see what the twins are doing." He halfheartedly suggested.

Snorting, Ron shot that down too. "And be a tester for their Weasley Wizarding Wheezes?"

"Too dangerous." Hermione concurred. This, of course, was entirely true, though somewhat ironic considering the three had voluntarily faced dangers of all sorts over the years. "We can see if your mother needs any help, Ron."

"No." Ron replied shortly, shaking his head. "No way." Ron was sitting sprawled on his bed with his head hanging down and arms flung to the side, which made his head shaking even more comical. From Hermione's spot, sitting on Harry's cot, she sent him a glare that clearly stated that he should want to help his mother, considering that she was letting Hermione and Harry stay at the Burrow. Harry was sitting on top of Ron's desk with his back against the wall, where he had a clear view of them both. Rolling his eyes, Harry looked over to Ron. "You've shot everything else down, so you think of something."

"Well...we could play chess."

"NO!" Both Harry and Hermione shouted. Hermione was a terrible chess player and wasn't much on strategy, initially she'd gone to books for chess lessons, but had quickly decided there were better books to read and had abandoned the effort. Even below Hermione's chess ability was Harry, who could be beaten by the very same gnomes that Ron had threatened Hermione with as roommates.

This reaction sent Ron into a state of hysterics. "You two really need to learn to play better. Good thing that Ginny is actually a slight competition, because after a while, even massacring you guys does get old."

"Shut it, mate." Harry bitterly directed towards Ron. Generally, he had come to terms with his inability to play chess, but that didn't mean he wanted to be reminded of it.

"Too bad the rain doesn't look likely to be stopping anytime soon." Hermione said wistfully, glancing past Ron's orange curtains to the darkened storm outside.

_**-Godric's Hollow**_

Miles away from the three Gryffindors the storm raged on and the deserted street paid it no mind. For almost thirteen years it had been deserted and there was no indication that anyone was ever planning to move in.

Godric's Hollow was the place of a great triumph for the side of the light, but still no one dared go there. It was a place that people idolized and feared at the same time. The last people that had lived there had not left not out of fear, but out of grief for their murdered neighbors.

The lightning flashed dangerously overhead. Had someone actually been on the street, they would have marveled at how close the lightning seemed. They would have, that was, until they saw the bolt crash down in the middle of the street.

Smoke and debris rained down and filled the street to the point where nothing could be seen. The sound of someone coughing filled the area which had previously been so quiet.

The coughing died down as the smoke did the same. A man stumbled forward, robes torn and frayed, as though they'd been worn far too long.

"What...?"

Questions were left hanging as the man stared at the house in front of him. The Potter residence was long ago destroyed to the point of near collapse, but he could barely believe his eyes.

James Potter stared at his home in horror. What had happened? Where were Lily and Harry? He turned around wildly, searching for familiar red hair or a childlike giggle. Even a child's cry would have been okay, because that would have meant that Harry was there.

He felt his breathing go ragged as his eyes came up with nothing but deserted homes and ruined pavement. All of the windows of the other homes were boarded up, and no one seemed to be around him. He was completely and utterly alone.

The memories came flooding back at frenzied pace.

_Voldemort, Harry's screams, green light… _

James stood in open-mouthed horror when it all came back to him.

_"No..."

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_**Note:**__ I've edited this chapter. For new readers, there is nothing you need to know, but for people re-reading the story, you might note the missing bonding spell between Harry and Ron. I had intended it to play a large part in the story, but as things didn't work out that way, it's been taken out to avoid confusion. _

_Reviews are ALWAYS appreciated!_


	2. Tears

**The Return of the Father:** Tears

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Hey everyone. Thanks to all of the reviewers, your individual responses are at the bottom, so any questions will be answered down there. I am hoping that this story and my other, Harry Potter and the New Start, do not cause each other to slow down in updating, and I highly doubt that will happen. Unless of course I go through those awful bouts of writer's block.

--------------------------------Godric's Hallow

James stumbled forward, not wanting to believe what was right in front of him. His home, his sanctuary, was nothing more than a dark, abandoned ruin. It looked like a tomb. But either way, it was all he had to go on. He had to know what was going on.

He had to know where Lily and Harry were.

Even though his mind had already come to the conclusion that they were dead and gone, his heart would not do the same. It couldn't be true. It wasn't. But the gaping wound in his heart told him that the two people he loved most in the world were gone.

Once James reached the door he merely stared at it. If he opened it, would it all be a dream? Would Lily be playing inside with Harry? He could picture it, Lily would be sitting by the fire, watching as Sirius tried to get Harry to say "dungbomb" as Remus laughed and tried to provoke Lily into smacking Sirius upside the head for corrupting her child. Peter would be sitting in the corner, watching them with a smile.

_Peter_

James's legs nearly collapsed under him. Peter was the traitor. Wormtail, one of the marauders, had betrayed he and his family. James closed his eyes and leaned his head against the still intact door. "How could you, Wormtail?"

It was all almost too much to deal with, too much to bear. He couldn't even open up the door, he just slid down it. The storm around him didn't die down one bit, and James could explain for the life of him why he was there. The street looked old, but he felt the same as he had all his life.

Confusion reigned in his mind. Had he been able to even think for a moment, he would have tried to piece things together. But the loss of Lily and Harry was the only thing his mind would process. Facts didn't pass through him, only names and faces did.

Harry and Lily were gone, he knew that much. But for how long? How long had the house been sitting empty? It didn't look like Halloween, and it was far warmer than it would have been in October or November.

If he had been gone for so long, would Remus and Sirius still be around? James's heart clenched at the thought of how he had thought Remus to be the traitor. As soon as James could find him, he'd apologize to Remus.

If Remus was still alive. 

"There's no way...oh no...no no no no." James whispered. "_They aren't gone._ Oh it's all my fault, Lily...Harry." The thought of his tiny son brought tears streaming down his cheeks. This wasn't true.

He shook his head and pulled his knees up. He needed Lily, she would be able to figure this out. But she was gone too. Every thought he had were of his family and it wasn't making him hurt less. His head felt sore, as did the rest of him. But his heart was in pieces. "Lily."

The rain drenched him and not even the porch could keep him dry. He had to get inside, but he couldn't bring himself to move. They were gone. There was no reason to move, to try to keep himself from getting sick.

Everything around him started to look hazy, and James wasn't sure it if was exhaustion or the fact that there were tears clouding his eyes. What would the inside of the house look like, if the outside was so bad.

James got up, despite the fact that he just wanted to stay there and pray that someone would tell him that his family was alive. The door had never looked more intimidating. But he had to know.

His hand reached out hesitantly for the doorknob and the cool metal didn't feel as inviting as it used to. He pushed the door open with ease, followed by horror when he saw that it was almost off of all its hinges, like someone had beat it down.

Then again, Voldemort had burst it open. Why had he expected it to be fixed?

Mind still in a jumble, he pushed himself into the room anyway. Things were too crazy, this wasn't real. The room was nearly blasted to bits. Everything that he and Lily had put in the house to make it a home was broken or dirty.

And everything became real.

"No. God damn you Wormtail! They didn't do anything wrong." James sobbed as he fell down again, too tired to hold himself up. "They didn't do anything...."

He was kneeling on the floor of the living room, next to what used to be Harry's playpen. His son's stuffed stag was sitting on the floor. It looked dirtier than it had been before. But it was still there, still Harry's. He slowly reached out for it and then pulled it to him.

James leaned forward, head nearly touching the floor. The stag was gripped in his hand. He had given it to Harry the day he was born. "Oh my baby...no...Harry." He whispered.

His son was his whole world. Harry made him smile every day. There was no way that there could be anything that pure and innocent in the world. It still amazed him that he could feel that much love for someone. More than for his parents or friends. More than his love for Lily.

The thought that his sweet baby boy could have been killed before he even got a chance to live was something that ripped him apart. He could still hear Harry's cries in his mind. His son hardly ever cried. The day he was born, when he got sick at six months. Never. Only when the people around him were upset. The day that James's parents had died and James had been crying, Harry had joined in. That was one of the only instances when he could remember seeing his baby crying.

They should have known then. When Harry started crying five minutes before Voldemort burst down their door. Harry had been trying to tell them, but they hadn't understood.

He understood now.

Voldemort had killed his son. And Peter...that little rat. They should have known then too, when his animagus form had been revealed. But they didn't. They never believed him anything but loyal.

He would kill them. He would kill them all for letting Harry and Lily die. They'd killed his family.

He had nothing left to lose.

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Okay, intense chapter. At least, that's how I wanted it to be. My only gripe with most James comes alive stories is that he always appears fine. There is no way that anyone who just realized his wife and child were dead could be fine. Which is why things are going to be kind of rough for everyone for a while. Forgive me, all right?

_**Again, a huge thanks to reviewers! Please, keep it up!**_

**MyStOrIeS-** _Thank you very much, it's nice to know you liked the first chapter enough to compliment it. I did email you to tell you that I was posting this chapter. But you can put me on author alert, so that way it won't be necessary. Let me know what you end up doing. Thanks for the review!_

**Yami Rose- **_I hope I keep intriguing you with the plot. Thanks for the review!_

**Takemeunder23-** _I'm right there with you. That couldn't have happened. He has to come back, because Harry Potter isn't the same without him in it. I'm happy to know that you're making an exception for this story. Thanks!_

**Geminia-** _Oooh, you really aren't a cliffhanger fan, are you? Well, I guess I've really pissed you off with this one, hu? Well, I can guarantee updates. I can't promise anything with ships though. Or if they will even be in here. If I do end up pairing people off, it won't be for a while, because James and his storyline is the driving force for now. Eventually, I may end up adding in a bit of romance. I don't know, but I'm keeping all doors open. I will let everyone know if I change my mind on that though. Thanks for the review!_

**Billdude21-** _Here's more. LOL. Thanks for reviewing!_

**Kiwiknight-** _I hope you're still enjoying the story. Thank you so much for reviewing!_

**Chibi-NarutoKawaii**- _Still interesting? Thanks._

**Kungzoune-** _I can't wait to write Harry's reaction. And I know how you feel about the 5th book. I think I want to pretend it doesn't exist. Which is basically what I'm doing in this story. Thanks for the review_

**Ari-Griffin**- _I'm not stopping, don't worry! Thank you for the review._

**Ginnylilianpotter-** _I'm happy to know you love it! Now skip back here for more updates. LOL. _

**Rhiane Rain**- _I hope you'll be able to tell if the stories going good soon. But I'm glad you seem to like it now. Thanks for the review_

**HanyouToni-** _Hope you got out of the gag in time to read this. LOL. Thanks for reviewing. _

**Lioness-** _I'll try to update regularly. Thanks!_

**Laura Granger**- _Here's more!_

**Klearbluocean-** _Itching? I hope I didn't make you wait too long! Thanks you._

**Becus**- _Okay, I think we'll go in order of comments, okay? One, calm the tantrum there! I'm going as fast as I can. LOL. As for longer chapters, I write how I write, some come out long, some come out short. I can't change that. Father son bonding is a guarantee. Lots of it. This won't be slash, so don't worry. I love this type of story too (obviously!). Lily? Not telling. Can't give anything like that away. Thanks for the review. _

**Minnie-Mae**- _Now that was a lot of flattery there. Thank you so much. I'm glad you don't think this is cliché. I'd be worried if you did. I hope my characters stay in character, and feel free to let me know if you don't think they are. Thank you again. _

**DawnRising-** _I wanted to come up with something original. The coma curse or a private hell can only be done so many times. I hope I'll be able to tie up all the loose ends on this. Thanks for the review. _

**Mariann's-** _I was worried about that first bit, so I'm relieved you're okay with it. Thanks!_

**Gavroche-Girl-** _The first one? Okay, there's some pressure. LOL, I'm just teasing. As for everyone's reactions, you shall soon see. I can't wait to write that part. Thank you for reviewing. _

**LuciShadow-** _I'm pretty excited myself to write them meeting again. I hope you'll like that part. Thank you!_


	3. Apparation

**The Return of the Father:** Apparation

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Hey guys. Thanks to all of the reviewers! I must say, I'm very pleased with this chapter.

-----------------------------------Godric's Hallow

James didn't know how long he'd been sitting there. Time, which had appeared to fast-forward so much when he had ended up in the middle of the street, was now standing still in his mind.

The stag was still clutched in his hand, a painful reminder of his son. The house was just as cold as the outdoors and his robes were soaked. He was trembling, but couldn't tell if that was because of his sobs or the cold. It didn't really matter to him either way.

He pulled his head up from off the edges of his knees and looked around the room. Their living room had been destroyed to the point where he could barely recognize it. "This is not my house." He whispered in disbelief. "Lily hates messes."

It didn't occur to him the insanity of that observation. Lily wasn't there to care about messes. His mind was refusing all new information, it was shutting down. This was too much for him to deal with.

Slowly he staggered up, stag clutched in hand. He wouldn't let that go, it was all of Harry he had left. He couldn't that go. It would be like letting Harry go. He'd already let his son die, but he wouldn't let anything else happen to him.

James shook his head. That didn't make sense. Nothing could happen to Harry because he was already gone. Groaning, James tried to sort out his thoughts. He was shivering though, the room felt unbelievably hot. Nothing made sense. "I can't stay here. I don't live here..." James muttered. This wasn't his home. His home was with Lily and Harry.

That was all he could think of when he started to apparate. His home...his family. His wife and son.

---------------------------------The Burrow

The house was quiet, the only time that it would be quiet. There were no random explosions taking place in the twin's room and no fights erupting from the seven young men.

The dead of night was pretty much the only time the Burrow got any peace and quiet. The fire had long since burned out.

With a small pop James appeared in the kitchen, too tired to hold himself up. He sank down to the ground, not caring about his unknown location. The truths of his family's deaths were seeping into him slowly but surely. And just when he thought the pain couldn't get more intense, it did. With each passing moment the pain got worse.

The fever that had come from the cold and the wetness of the robes was taking over his already confused mind. The sound of Harry crying was ringing in his hears and he could hear Lily scream. He wasn't sure where the scream had come from though, she hadn't screamed when Voldemort came.

Had she? After he had fallen asleep, or done whatever he had done. Had Harry cried when Voldemort killed him? Had his son died waiting for his father to burst in and save him?

The thought knocked out all of the air from James's lungs. "No, Harry, I'm so sorry baby." He whimpered out. James pushed himself backwards, until he was leaning between the counter and the door. He pulled his knees up to his face and buried his head between them.

Slowly he started rocking himself back and forth, fevered mind coming up with more horrible situations for the deaths of Lily, Harry, Sirius and Remus.

"I'm sorry...I'm so sorry." He repeated again and again.

--------------------------------Molly and Arthur's Bedroom

Molly Weasley woke with a start. Her eyes darted around her as she tried to come up with a reason as to why she woke up. There was nothing in her bedroom.

Arthur was fast asleep next to her and he obviously hadn't heard anything out of sort. Though, being a mother of seven, any sound of distress from another human being would wake her up. Her ears strained to see if she heard anything.

And again she heard something faint. Mutterings maybe? She couldn't tell. One of the kids must have woken up and decided to have a late night chat with a roommate. That wouldn't do though. They needed their sleep.

She got out of bed and pulled on some clothes. It wouldn't do to be unprepared, just incase there was an actual emergency. She padded barefoot out to the hallway.

In turn she glanced into each room. Ron and Harry were fast asleep. She went downstairs and the voice got a bit louder, but still not enough to make anything out. Ginny and Hermoine, with Fred and George in the room over from them made no noise and were fast asleep. As were Percy, Charlie and Bill.

She soon realized it was none of her own kids, biological or surrogate, talking. Molly pulled her wand out and made her way downstairs. The living room turned nothing up. And she knew that who ever it was in her home was in the kitchen.

Taking a moment to gather her wits, she took a deep breath. For the moment she decided against lighting her wand, as the dark would give her an element of surprise. Marching in quietly, Molly surveyed the room. After only a second, her eyes settle on one spot.

In the area between two counters and in front of the door, was a man. He seemed to have dark hair and black robes on. But she couldn't be sure. All she did know was that this man was trembling in her kitchen. Something that she could see in the dark and on the other side of the room.

And now, at least, the muttered words could be made out, if only barely.

"Lily...oh I'm so sorry. Peter, how could you? Nothing...innocent...didn't do anything wrong. Oh Harry. My sweet boy, my baby. Harry.... Padfoot, plan. Wrong. All wrong. Didn't know..."

His words were a jumble and they all ran together. But the bits that she did get startled her. Had this person, this shaking man, just said that Harry was his son? But she knew that James Potter was dead, long dead in fact. There was no way that this was him, so who was this person.

The rational side of her head told her that this might not be James Potter. That there were many people with the name Harry. That her mind was playing tricks on her. But how many people knew what Sirius Black's nickname was. Did the four marauders say the names many times around others? Or was it something that only those close to them knew?

But most importantly, how did this person know that Sirius and James's plan had gone wrong and that Peter Pettigrew had betrayed the Potters? Molly felt herself growing both afraid and curious. Either way, she had to know.

"_Lumos_." She whispered and directed her light to the shivering figure in her kitchen. She had been right, it was a dark-haired man. His hair was going in every direction, very much like Harry's did. "Excuse me...sir?" she hesitantly asked, all the while keeping her voice quiet.

The man didn't break his speech or look at her, he just continued to rock himself back and forth. "Sorry...so sorry...Harry...no."

Molly took another step forward, gaining a bit more confidence. This man didn't seem to be a threat to anyone, let alone her. "Hello?" she asked again. Reaching down she gently touched his shoulder.

This, unlike soft words, did shake him out of his dazed state. His head shot up and Molly gasped at the sight in front of her. It was Harry. But slightly older, he looked to be around 20 or 21. His eyes were different also. Not the stunning green, but a dark hazel. There were tears streaming out of the bloodshot eyes and there were dark circles underneath.

The man's nose was a bit longer than Harry's. But other than that the face was the same. His lips were a bluish color and were cracked. Her mind entertained the thought of this being an imposter sent by Voldemort.

But one look into those eyes, the unfamiliar hazel, and she knew it wasn't true. Dark Lord or no, there was one thing that Voldemort did not know about, and that was love. This man in front of her more emotion in his eyes than any other man that she had ever seen. Love, desperate disbelief, shock, and sadness. A grief that she only knew a parent to have. It was the look her eyes took on when one of her kids were sick or injured.

It was the look of a parent that had lost it all.

She needed no further confirmation. No matter how he had gotten there. It didn't matter, and she didn't care. But James Potter was sitting in front of her. Looking both sick and grief stricken. Her heart went out for him, he must have been quiet confused. "Mr. Potter?"

The man's mouth dropped open slightly, but he said nothing. She was just about to try again, when his faint and raspy voice chilled her. _"They're dead."_

His statement startled her. "What? Who is dead? James...listen to me. My name is Molly Weasley. I'm a friend of Dumbledore's, let me call him. I'll be right back." She started.

"Doesn't matter...they're dead. I failed...oh god." He whispered, not looking at her but instead at something in the distance, something that only James could see. His trembling was beginning to alarm her.

Shaking her head, Molly tried to reason with him. "No, no, James. It's all right. You're safe now." She tried to say soothingly. "You didn't fail. Just give me a second and I'll get Dumbledore. He'll know what to do." She added hesitantly. Would Dumbledore know what to do?

He had to, that was all there was to it. Besides, she needed some help. More importantly, James needed help. "We'll get you to Hogwarts maybe? Madame Pomfrey can help you."

At this, James gave her an odd look. "I'm fine. They're not." He faintly informed her. Proving once and for all that Harry got his tendency to never admit to sadness or sickness from his father.

"You're sick." Molly stated firmly in her no nonsense tone that caused even the quite grown up Bill to back down and obey. "But you'll be okay soon. Just imagine what Harry will say when he sees you..." she trailed off as she started to get up. She turned to go towards the living room. But James's voice stopped her dead in her tracks.

"_Harry's dead." _

Slowly she turned to face the man in front of her. For the first time she noticed the stuffed stag in his hands. It looked old and worn. It only took a second for it to hit her. It was Harry's toy. James had been at Godric's Hallow. He'd seen the destruction.

And he had assumed that his son was dead.

"No...no, James. No, Harry's not dead. He's fine, he's right up-" She started frantically. She couldn't let him believe that his son was dead when he wasn't. But James cut her off.

All the windows in the house shattered, blasting outside in a million pieces. All the open windows were letting the rain pound into the house. Gusts of cold air hit Molly like a wave.

"HE'S DEAD!"

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And there goes James's decent into madness or sickness. I've yet to decide. Which is why I've set it up so it may be that he's really out of it 'cause he's sick (and in shock), or that seeing his home like that and spending so much time thinking the worst has addled him. You'll see.

_**Please, review! **_

**Athenakitty-** _Of course Harry and James will be reunited, what kind of James comes alive story would this be if Harry didn't see James? Whether this is a good thing or a bad thing...well...that should be your question. Thanks. _

**LupinandSiriusLover-** _Well, if a lot of people want them gone then I'd do it in an instant. So until then, you'll have to scroll down. I'm sorry you don't like them though. Thanks for the review! _

**Yami Rose**- _I'm honored I snagged two. LOL. Thank you very much. You'll have to see in the James/Harry department. I will reveal nothing! _

**HanyouToni-** _Congratulations, I am giving you the most creative review award. I'm glad you like the story, thanks!_

**DawnRising**_- I think James was a very caring father, as he died to keep Harry safe. Thanks for the review, I'm glad you're getting into it. _

**AAandACFOREVER-** _Whoa! Calm down there! I'm updating as fast as I can! LOL, thanks for the review, Amanda. _

**Jen**_- Chapter lengths vary per chapter, I'm sorry if you don't think they're long enough though. I'd love to say that I'll work on that, but a lot of the time the flow gets in the way of elaborating. So I don't know if they'll get longer. Sorry. Thanks for the review!_

**Katrina-** _Eventually...I don't know about soon though. Technically he's already found Harry, but that doesn't mean it will stay that way! Hehe. Thanks!_

**Princess Mia Diablo**- _We'll see... Right now it's not a big thing, as I'm focusing more on Harry and James with Sirius and Remus thrown in there. So friendships and father/son relationships are a bit bigger a deal right now than love lives. But eventually, I may start that up. Who knows? I'm pretty open. Thanks for the review._

**Praesul Femella- **_Thank you so much!_

**Ginnylilianpotter- **_Of course I'm happy you're reviewing. James and Harry will get the scene in a while, I think. I'm just going with the flow for this, there is no outline, and so I don't really know. Thanks!_

**Gavroche-Girl-** _You're right, something tells me that James needs a bit more than a cuddle. Though, if the one cuddling him is Harry...well, that might work. Thank you very much for that whole review, the chapter might have made you cry, but reviews like yours make me giggle uncontrollably (doesn't matter how long I've done this, I still get giddy over reviews!). _

**HarryPfan001- **_Thanks for reviewing!_

**Ironic-Humour- **_Good start? Yay. I hope you keep thinking that as the chapters go on. Thanks!_


	4. Calls in the Night

**The Return of the Father: **Calls in the Night

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_Hey guys. Thanks so much to all of the reviewers. I'm having so much fun writing this story. And as of now, I'm pretty damn inspired for it!_

_There's a lot of POV switches in this chapter, but I'm sure that you can tell whose doing the thinking when. I'm not trying to confuse anyone, so I'm sorry if that does happen. I just wanted to give everyone a chance to think over what's going on. And since there's so much going on, it's going to be a bit of a long chapter. Okay, a really long chapter. So sit tight, kids. _

_Any instance of "Sir" is supposed to be "Seer" in pronunciation. You know, as a nickname for Sirius. _

-----------------------------------The Burrow – Harry and Ron's Room

The windows shattered and Harry shot up out of bed. He looked around wildly to see the source of the disturbance. There were no branches coming out of the outside, so why had the windows blown out? But even if there was a branch, the glass would have gone their way, not outside. It didn't make sense.

"Harry? What do you reckon that was?" Ron quietly asked from his bed. Harry turned to look at his best friend, but before he could answer, someone cut him off.

"HE'S DEAD!"

The yell came from the downstairs and within seconds Harry and Ron had wands out and ready. They had to get downstairs to see what was going on.

---------------------------------The Kitchen

"James!" Molly cried when she heard the sounds of her family rustling around. As much as she wanted to stay and make sure that James would be all right, she had to intercept Harry.

It was his right to know his father was now alive again, more so than anyone else. But she couldn't bear to let him see how his father was at the moment. Without another word to the distraught man in her kitchen, she raced upstairs.

Bill was heading down the stairs in front of her, with Percy and Charlie right behind him. The sounds of the twin's door were in the distance and she knew it would take only five more seconds for every Weasley and honorary Weasley to assemble. "Bill! Stop." She ordered in the same firm voice from before.

Her son looked shocked that after the windows had blown _outside _and a strange person had yelled about someone was dead, his mother was telling him to stop. "Mum? What are you..."

"Percy, go get your father right now. Charlie you go make sure that no one else comes down here. Especially Harry and Ron." After seeing the looks on her two eldest son's faces, she hastily added, "There's nothing wrong. I just don't want anyone seeing our...visitor."

Percy piped up from the back. "Shall I call the ministry, Mum?"

Shaking her head, Molly moved to squash such actions. "No, Percy, this is a private family matter. There's no need to involve the ministry. When you get your father, tell him to come down, but you stay and help Charlie keep everyone upstairs."

The look that Percy gave her was one that clearly stated that for now she had won, but only for now. Nevertheless, he rushed to get to his parent's bedroom, where Arthur was currently running out of, though no one could see it since it was a flight or two up. "Charlie, the kids." She reminded quickly.

He nodded and raced upstairs, bumping into the twins, who he herded backwards with a big brother's authority.

Bill was the only one still remaining. "Mum, now will you tell me what's going on?" he asked with a curious look on his face. "Who's this private family visitor?"

Grabbing her son's hand and trusting Charlie to keep the little ones away, Molly dragged Bill to the living room. "I know this sounds crazy, Bill, but a very sick man has just apparated into our kitchen." He was about to say something, but she held up her and. "It's no spy of anyone. He thinks his family is dead, that his son is dead. And that's the yell you heard. I was trying to tell him that this was not so."

This time Bill would not be silenced. "How do you know if the man's son is dead or not?"

"Because this man has been...out of the loop for a long time." She explained with a frown. "Bill, I can very easily see it in his eyes, he isn't faking this."

Nodding, Bill sent another questioning glance to the kitchen door. "Well, who is it? Do you know him?"

"By name, never by meeting. We know his son though. Bill, he's been thought dead for about thirteen years." She added, with a meaningful look. She let her eyes travel upstairs, letting her son all he needed to know without saying the words.

Realization dawned on Bill's face. "Mum...you're off your rocker. James Potter is dead." He faintly answered, as though seriously worried for his mother's mental health.

"Molly?!" Arthur raced into the living room looking wild. "What's going on? Why are Charlie and Percy keeping everyone upstairs?"

"Harry hasn't tried to come down, has he?" She asked anxiously.

Shaking his head, Arthur answered. "No, no, Charlie shut he and Ron back into their room. They're listening to what we're saying for now." He added, letting her know that they'd most likely burst out eventually.

"Good, good. Bill, explain this to your father, I'm going to check on James." Molly instructed, without a backwards glance. She walked back into her kitchen and this time started a fire. The light was bright enough to see by, but still kept the room relatively dark.

"James?" she asked, unaware of how to approach him. His head was back at his knees and she knew that he wouldn't look up again for her. She needed Dumbledore.

But behind her, there were two people with other ideas. "Good god..." Arthur breathed out, shocked at the sight in front of him. Bill looked equally surprised, and Molly couldn't really blame them. She had been shocked herself.

"I don't think he's going to respond to me again, but listen to what he's saying." She suggested, and both men moved closer.

-----------------------------------

James rocked himself back and forth again. The whole room was turning around and making a good impression of a muggle carnival ride. He could still remember taking Lily to one, or rather her taking him.

_Oh god...Lily. _

No matter what he thought of, she came back to haunt him. Even the woman in front of him had red hair. "Lily..."

He shook his head, "No...she's gone..." he mumbled, Lily wasn't there. Wanting her wouldn't change that. But if he'd been more careful, or fought harder, would she have been? Would she and Harry have survived? "All my fault."

His whole body was shivering, yet he felt anything but cold. More than anything, he was numb. It was too surreal to be dealt with. Lily would have known what to do, or Remus. Remus was good with those types of situations.

There were voices in the room with him. Who they were and what they were saying were hard to make out. He tried to focus on it, a man's voice.

"_Best call Dumbledore. Either way he needs to know."_

Dumbledore. Was he still alive? If this person wanted to call him, then by all means as far as he was concerned. But Dumbledore couldn't help this. If anything, he would just have wise but confusing words to state and then give you a wink and walk away.

What good could come of it?

Would his eyes have that same twinkle in them? Could anyone look happy with a baby whose so perfect dead? How long had it been, had Dumbledore been able to move on from his son's death? As far as James was concerned, it was impossible. But Dumbledore wasn't Harry's father, James was. "Harry, oh Harry I'm so sorry. Stop crying, please stop crying."

_"Stop crying? Merlin, he's hearing things." Came a different man's voice. But James couldn't tell if it really was a different person, or just the same one from before._

_That person was followed by a woman, "Look at how he's shivering, he's all wet. Sick probably. That's why he's hearing things." She trailed off, as if not certain that it was his heath causing Harry's cries._

James knew their real cause though. It wasn't because of a little rain. It was because his son was angry with him. After all, James had sworn to Harry since the day he was born, and renewed the pledge aloud each night, that he would always protect him from anything and everything. That Harry would always be safe with James. "I didn't mean to lie, Harry. I tried so hard."

-----------------------------------

"I didn't mean to lie, Harry. I tried so hard."

Even if Arthur and Bill didn't believe Molly a hundred percent, the grief in the man's voice made even their heart's clench. With each word that came out of this man's mouth, they became more and more sure of who it was.

"Call Professor Dumbledore." Molly said again. This time, Arthur listened. She turned to Bill, who was watching James with a mixture of disbelief, shock and wary caution. "Bill, dear, why don't you go upstairs. Have Charlie come down in your spot. You can relay some information to the children, so they don't get too angry and rush down."

Nodding, Bill tore his eyes from James's huddled form and sent them to his mother. "What do I say?"

"Well...just say that a sick man has apparated to our house. He's very confused and that's why we don't want that many people down here. Make sure that Percy knows that the situation is being handled and the ministry is not needed." She added as a slightly bitter afterthought.

"And Charlie?" he asked, needing to be able to tell _someone_ the truth. Even if his mum said no, he might end up overriding that.

But luckily she seemed to understand his predicament. "Tell him as quietly as you can. We don't want Harry or Ron overhearing. Ron would tell him in an instant. At least we could reason with Ginny or Hermoine about it."

With a hard sigh, Bill looked back at James. "If that man's not James Potter than he deserves not only a punch in the face, but an award for such good acting. Dead people don't come back to life, but the more he talks, the more I think that it's happened."

"And people aren't supposed to survive the killing curse, but we have living proof upstairs." Molly reminded, aiming to show her son that the impossible did happen. Bill got the message and gave her a sheepish smile. He jogged upstairs and left Molly and James alone.

-----------------------------------

Charlie checked on Ron, Harry, Ginny and Hermoine again. They had all decided to stay in Ron's room. It was clearly apparent that even if this turned out to be nothing, no one would be returning to sleep tonight.

Behind him, he could hear someone charging up the stairs. "Charlie!" came the hushed whisper.

He turned around to see Bill, looking to be a bit shocked himself. Charlie grabbed his older brother and pushed him back toward the staircase. He didn't want the four occupants of the room behind them hearing whatever it is Bill had to say. "What in bloody hell is going on?

"You won't believe me." Bill answered. "But you're going downstairs so I can look after them, and so you'll just have to take my word for it. Besides, sit in the room with James long enough and you'll be as convinced as I am."

Eyes narrowed, the confusion on Charlie's face was evident. "Hu? Whose James?"

"The same James that Harry calls "dad". Charlie, we've got a formerly dead guy sitting in our kitchen. _It's James Potter_." He whispered, sending yet another glance at the door, hoping that no one had heard anything at all. When no one rushed out, he took it as a sign that there was no one listening in the hallways for information.

Charlie, however, glanced nowhere and kept a firm gaze at his older brother. "You're joking." He said disbelievingly, which Bill couldn't exactly fault him for, as he himself had asked Mum if she'd gone off her rocker.

"No, you git, no one jokes about this. Go downstairs, see him, you'll believe me." Bill offered. Charlie nodded and walked away, but Bill called him back. "Just watch out, Charlie, he's the one who's a bit off his rocker right now."

Again his brother nodded and walked down the stairs. And with a deep breath Bill headed back to Ron's room. He was about to have to tell the biggest lie of his life most likely. As he was pretty much positive that any other lie that he'd told in his life would pale in comparison to not mentioning when an orphan was no longer an orphan.

He knocked on the door and heard the faint "Come in." With permission in place Bill stepped inside. "Hey, runts, how's it going?" he asked cheerily.

He was met, however, with less than cheery expressions. Ginny looked dead on her feet and ready to kill him for being so awake. Hermoine was looking also tired, but more or less extremely annoyed with the whole situation, if not also curious. Harry was sitting tensely on the floor, staring at him. The teenager wanted answers and he wanted them right then and there. He looked as though he were gearing himself up for a battle.

And unluckily for Bill, Ron looked all of the above. And despite the age difference, Ron could read all of his brothers like a book. A key survival skill for the youngest boy. Lying to Ron would be harder, as he would most likely know that Bill was lying. He was sincerely hoping that his brother would be a bit out of it because of the time.

When he received no response, Bill let out a small chuckle. "Okay, dumb question. You're all tired."

"What's going on, Bill?" Ron asked, sounding more serious than Bill had ever heard him sound. He realized, with a bit of a jolt, that Hermoine, Harry and Ron all shared a look of tired determination. As though they were ready and waiting for the cue to run out and fight the bad guys like they had done every time trouble arose in the past four years.

Sitting down on the bed, Bill took a deep breath. "Mum woke up a while ago, and heard talking. So, being Mum, she marched down here to tell whomever it was to get back to bed. Turns out it wasn't one of us. It was a man downstairs in the kitchen."

"Who?" Harry asked suddenly. Anyone could tell that he was waiting for the words "Death eater" or "Voldemort" to spill out of Bill's mouth. Sadly, Harry was soon to be disappointed.

Shrugging, Bill lied easily. "Don't know. It's a man. Must have gotten caught outside, cause he'd pretty damn sick I think. Shaking like you wouldn't believe. Had to have apparated here."

Sadly, no one seemed to believe him. But Ginny decided to ask for a bit more information before she called him on it. "So you don't know his name, or where's he's from?"

"Nope, but we're calling Dumbledore. He'll know." Bill answered, which wasn't exactly a lie either. They were calling the Headmaster, and everyone was praying that he'd know what to do.

The four teenagers were quiet for a second. But Harry spoke up, with the damning bit of evidence. "Okay, so this guy's sick. I can believe that. And if Mrs. Weasley startled him, he might not have been in control of his magic and he was the one who blew out the windows." Harry said, gesturing out to the newly restored windows. Most likely Charlie's handiwork. "But why did he yell, 'He's dead!' out loud?"

Bill's mind frantically searched for an answer. He couldn't use the "He thinks his son is dead." Excuse that his mother had used on him. Considering that they believed that he didn't know the man's name. "I don't know." He answered after a second.

They all exchanged glances. Bill rushed to go on. "I've got to check on Fred and George. Make sure they haven't killed Percy. Besides, they'll want to know all of this too." He stood up and nodded, before leaving.

Once the door was closed and the eldest Weasley boy's footsteps were receding, Ron made his observation. "Are we expected to believe that load of bull?" he asked in the surprisingly dry tone that he and Harry had perfected to an art form.

"I hope not, otherwise that's an insult to our intelligence." Hermoine concurred while Harry nodded his head, agreeing completely.

It seemed that only Ginny wasn't convinced that they had been lied to. "How do you know he's lying? It could be the truth. Things like this happen, you know."

"Ginny, you've forgotten who you're sitting with." Harry told her, pointing to himself, Hermoine and Ron each in turn. "That's too normal to have happen."

Ron instantly agreed, "Yeah, think about it. We can't have normal teachers. 'Moine and I don't have a normal best friend." Ron merely grinned as Harry sent him a long suffering look, "Hell, I couldn't even have a normal pet rat. The laws of man and Merlin clearly state that there is something big going on."

Rolling her eyes, Hermoine spoke up, "Really, Ron, do you need to be so dramatic? The laws of man and Merlin..._honestly_."

"Besides, I have a weird feeling." Harry quietly added in, much to the horror of Ron and Hermoine. But Harry didn't see, as he was studying his bare feet with unmasked interest.

Quietly, Ron got up from his bed and kneeled next to Harry on the floor. "Um...Harry?" He asked, as Harry finally pulled his eyes up. "Define weird feeling."

"Oh, not my scar." Harry instantly added, and Hermoine let out a small sigh of relief – something that only Ginny noticed. "It's just...I can't explain it."

Ginny decided to prod it out of him, as Harry's feelings on these sorts of matters were always correct. She pulled herself closer to him, "Try."

Harry got a thoughtful look on his face. How could he explain it? It was something that he hadn't felt before, but was sure he had. It was like deja vu without knowing it. There was some sort of electricity in the air, telling him something big was happening. "It's like, something's different, but it's not different, it's...here again. Like I've felt it before. I just can't remember where." He narrowed his eyes, looking hard at Ron. "Something is going on downstairs. And when we find out what it is everything, _everything_, is going to change."

--------------------------------Meanwhile -- Weasley's Living Room

Arthur Weasley walked out of his kitchen slowly, heart and head dizzy with the knowledge of what was going on. Actually, he still wasn't quite sure what exactly was going on. But whatever it was, Dumbledore needed to know. That was sure enough for him.

Quickly he fire-called the Headmaster of Hogwarts. After a second the aged face of Albus Dumbledore floated eerily in his fireplace. "Arthur! Whatever is it?"

With a deep breath Arthur launched into his story, to the one person who wouldn't label him crazy – at least not right off the bat. "And Bill's just gone upstairs to tell Harry, Ron, Hermoine and probably Ginny that we've just got a sick man who apparated to the wrong spot in our kitchen." He finished with a deep breath.

To say that Albus had a good poker face would have been an understatement. How the wizard was keeping himself calm, cool and collected – all the while remaining completely neutral in facial expressions – was beyond the Weasley patriarch. "Albus?" he asked tentatively.

"I do not know what to say." Dumbledore finally conceded. He looked both hopeful and as though he would not allow his mind to believe it true.

Sighing, Arthur was right there with him on that. "I know, it's shocking to say the least. But you have to see him, Albus. Molly's the only one whose gotten a good look at him, she say's its like a 20 year old Harry, but just listening to him is enough."

The face in his fireplace raised its eyebrows. "What exactly is he saying, Arthur?" he asked curiously.

"That he's failed, and he's sorry. He's asked Harry to stop crying a few times. Something about Padfoot and plans being all wrong." Arthur explained, "He's not pleased with Peter either. He's telling Lily he's sorry a lot, probably saying it to her the most."

Taking a deep breath, he put forth his best piece of evidence before Albus could comment. "But it's his voice, Dumbledore, he sound so...heartbroken. Defeated almost. You can't duplicate that emotion. At least not that much of it. Molly says it's even more defined in his eyes."

"You think that this is James Potter?" Albus asked slowly.

Nodding, Arthur confirmed what the man asked. "Yes, sir, I think it's him. How he's here, I don't know. But it's him."

-----------------------------------Hogwarts

"Yes, sir, I think it's him. How he's here, I don't know. But it's him."

Dumbledore sighed heavily, this was not what he had been expecting. Harry's nightmares getting worse, the twin's inventing a weapon of mass pranking, Percy cutting himself off even more, those things yes. But James?

His former student had been dead for nearly thirteen years at this point. Why now? And how had he returned? But there was one question that was far more important.

Was it really him?

After a second he realized that Arthur Weasley was still watching him. What would be best would be to go the Burrow himself and see this person who was thought to be James. But there were also other matters to take into consideration. "You said that he's sick?"

"Shaking like mad, that's all we can tell so far. He's soaked, so that's why we think that. Molly says his lips were blue and cracked. But we haven't gotten close enough to check for sure." Then he smiled ruefully, "We don't want to frighten him into blowing out our doors to match."

Giving a small smile back was too much effort for the shocked man. "James is very powerful, he always has been. Do not approach him until I get there." Dumbledore warned as Arthur nodded his head. "I will get Madame Pomfrey and bring her with me."

Before Albus could say goodbye, Arthur cut in, "Professor, we already agreed to keep Harry upstairs. But what about Sirius and Remus?"

"I will take care of that, so tell Molly to expect them. I will be there shortly, Arthur."

--------------------------------Remus Lupin's House – 10 Minutes Later

Remus sat heavily in the chair by the fire. "Oh my god..." he trailed off, whispering the words with a voice full of emotion. Emotion that was clearly heard despite the lack of volume. How could this be true? And what would he and Sirius do if it wasn't? This is what he had been dreaming of since that Halloween. They had James back.

But Dumbledore said that he was sick, and they could not guarantee that he was sane either. Would he be James, or was his best friend really lost after all?

"Remus?" Sirius called. He sounded happy about something, most likely a new prank or a letter from Harry.

At that thought Remus closed his eyes, Harry. Would he be able to accept James? And what would it do to him if James couldn't handle that he was no longer a child. There were so many questions, and so many unknown variables.

"Moony? Are you okay?"

Remus opened his eyes to look at his other best friend. Sirius looked slightly concerned. Of course, it was Remus who had to tell Sirius. _What fun._

"Siri...sit down." Remus instructed tiredly. Either it was the sound of his voice, or the look in his eyes, but either way, Remus had achieved the near impossible. He got Sirius Black to listen and follow an order on the first try.

The dark haired animagus sank down in his seat. "What's going on? And don't tell me nothing, I can see something is up from your eyes. Is it Harry?"

"No, not Harry." Remus answered heavily. He took a deep breath before continuing. "It's James." He whispered.

This was clearly not what Sirius was expecting. He'd spent years waiting to wake up and have his best friend's death be all a horrible nightmare. But those days were long since, and even though he missed James every day, he no longer expected him to be back. "James is dead, Moony." He answered, now worried even more for the werewolf.

Shaking his head, Remus told him what Dumbledore had said. "Dumbledore just fire called. He apparated into the Weasley's kitchen. Clutching Harry's old stuffed stag – you remember that thing? Well, Molly is positive it's him." Quickly waving off Sirius' protests, he continued. "She's never met him, but she could tell in his eyes who he was."

Going on, Remus added, "They're sure it's him, Padfoot. You know they wouldn't have called otherwise."

Sirius stayed quiet for a while after Moony finished that statement. He too knew that Dumbledore would not do that to them. He wouldn't lie or build them up only to possibly rip it to shreds.

Could he even dare to hope that it was James? He had waited for this for so long, but now that it was here, could he believe it? As much as he wanted to scoff and say that it wasn't James and they were all insane. A part of him, that annoying little part he called a heart, told him it was true.

"I can't believe it...James is alive." Padfoot muttered, trying on the phrase and quickly deciding he liked it. "This is the best news I've had since they told me Mum was dead."

With that pronouncement, Remus couldn't help but laugh. Leave it to Sirius to break up the...serious moments. "Padfoot, you're crazy."

"He's alive Moony." Sirius repeated, a light returning to his eyes that Remus hadn't seen in thirteen years. Something that he thought Azkaban had robbed of Sirius. But as it now turned out, it was the lack of his spiritual twin that had taken it from him. There were few memories that Remus had of James or Sirius that didn't include both of them there.

Nodding, Remus agreed with him. "Yes, Sirius, he's alive."

That was all the confirmation that Sirius needed. He jumped up from his seat and started rattling things off. "Harry's got to be told. Oh, imagine the looks on their faces. James is going to be so proud of him, Remmy. We can prank Snape again. It's going to be great. You just wait and see..." Sirius trailed off, mentally planning their reunion.

One thought, however stopped Sirius cold, a different tone of voice took over. "He can forgive me. For changing the secret keepers, he can finally tell me if he hates me or not. Oh god, Moony, you have no idea how much of a weight that would be off my shoulders." A look of realization flashed over Sirius's face, "The ministry. He can tell them that I wasn't the secret keeper or the traitor. I'll be free."

The sound of such hope in Sirius's voice nearly broke Remus's heart. He hadn't mentioned the other part of Dumbledore's talk.

"Can you imagine the look on Fudge's face when he's forced to say he's wrong? Oh I'd pay good money to see...." Sirius started.

"He's sick, Sirius."

Sirius stopped dead in his tracks, though his back was still turned. Remus waited for him to turn around, hoping that he would have enough time to level out his voice so Sirius wouldn't see how worried he was. How bad this could be.

But either way, Sirius turned around slowly. The look of horror on his face made Remus want to floo to Hogwarts and curse the headmaster for putting him up to this.

"What did you say?" Sirius demanded harshly. His eyes were hard and he looked angry with Remus for merely suggesting it.

"We don't know, Sirius. Molly said he'd soaked, from the storm most likely. If he's got that stag, that means he was at Godric's Hallow, and it's bound to be cold in a place with no heating. His lips are blue and he's shaking so badly that Dumbledore's bringing Poppy with him." Remus explained sadly. The worry in his voice let Sirius know it was as serious as it sounded.

For the second time Sirius sank down into the couch. "He's sick?"

"I know this doesn't sound good, Padfoot. But there's more." Remus added gently. "He's saying things. Thinks that are making them think that he's either far sicker than he looks or that he's..." he trailed off, too afraid to voice the words that Albus had used.

But Sirius wouldn't let it rest, not until he knew what was going on with his newly returned best friend. "What? What do they think he could be besides sick!? Remus answer me!"

"Insane, Sirius, James might not be sane." Remus sadly finished his sentence, tears threatening to spill to the surface. It was different for Molly, Arthur, Bill and Charlie. They didn't know James, just knew of him. Harry was the link. They were concerned, but they wouldn't be crushed if he did turn out to be too far gone to be saved. And for Dumbledore, it might have been more intense than for the Weasley's, but at the same time, it wasn't as bad. For Remus, Sirius and Harry, though, it was news that could break their hearts. And Remus feared, in the case of Sirius and Harry, break their spirit.

Sirius shook his head furiously. "That's not true! You're lying, he's fine."

"Sirius! I'm not lying! He's saying how sorry he is. He thinks we're all dead!" Remus yelled, making Sirius's eyes widen. "He's said that he wants Harry to stop crying. That he's failed, or asks Peter how he could do that to them. About how innocent Harry was, that he'd done nothing wrong."

Eyes closed, Sirius took in what Remus was saying. But he didn't say anything. Remus slowly calmed down and felt guilty for yelling at his best friend. "I'm sorry, Sir."

"It's not your fault." Sirius answered, brushing off Remus's anger in mere seconds. "I can't believe he thinks Harry is dead."

"Well, he knows Lily is dead, and you saw that house Sirius. You know how it looked. I would have thought the same thing." Remus rationalized. "Besides, he could just be in shock. He might be fine when he hears that Harry's alive."

They both knew, though, that this might not be the case. But at that point, they didn't care. They were both clinging to what little hope they may have.

"We have to go see him..._now_."

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_Wow, that was long. **Don't expect them all to be like this.** I was actually planning on having them all see James in this chapter, but it was already getting quite long. So that will be next chapter. _

_**I hope you all liked this, please review!**_

_Okay guys, bad news sprung from good news. When I started this story (and HP and the New Start), I was only really expecting ten reviews or so. But you've all blown away my expectations (again, thanks so much!). But now, as many people have told me and I agree with, the reviewer responses, as much as I love them, are taking up way too much space. I'd love to keep them going, but when I'm getting as many reviews as I do (Does that sound snotty? It's not meant to be), I can't keep them up. So now the responses will be limited to when someone has a real question, like if they're confused about an event or something along those lines. Other than that I won't add them in. Sorry guys! But once again, thank you for all of your reviews._

_Also, to anyone thinking that I've abandoned HPATNS, I haven't. This is just getting updated today because one, I need the happy boost reviews give and two, I've got up to chapter six written. I do not have the next chapter written for New Start. I've been extremely busy (family shit), and haven't had time. I promise you all though, New Start will get updated this weekend at the LATEST. Sorry for the long author's note this time, we just had some housekeeping to do._

**_Stars Enchantress_**

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	5. Padfoot Sees Prongs

**The Return of the Father: **Padfoot Sees Prongs

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_Hello everyone! It's going to be a pretty intense chapter (I hope it will be at least). Thanks to all of the reviewers! I don't know how long this chapter will turn out to be, so prepare yourself either way._

-----------------------------------The Burrow – Living Room

Molly Weasley sat tensely in the chair by the fire. Her mind was still reeling from the person she had found in the kitchen. And though she was wondering what might happen, she was far more worried for Harry.

Arthur had long since convinced her that she couldn't sit in the kitchen with a half catatonic man that she didn't know forever. So she'd taken a less dangerous post. Arthur himself kept glancing at the kitchen door, half expecting James to walk in and either flip out on them all or offer everyone tea since he would be in their kitchen so much.

Her son was sitting by the fire, though a safe distance away in case of any floo trips. Charlie was also now convinced of James's identity. Just as Bill had said, it hadn't taken long before he was sure about it, especially after sitting close enough to hear the man talk. They were all a little dazed, if not curious as to how a man could come back to life.

Keeping Harry upstairs proved simpler than they had though, as long as Bill and Charlie made regular visits to show that everyone was still alive. Arthur had headed up once already. It had been only fifteen minutes since Bill's first visit, but they weren't taking chances. The twins were a little harder. Percy had to stand outside the door with wands out and be prepared for all sorts of pranks. Which is also what kept Percy busy, and far away from any way of contacting the ministry.

James did not move from his spot on the floor, nor did he quiet down any. The continuous streams of "I'm so sorry" or various names did not slow. Though they were much harder to hear unless you were up close to him. He was still rocking himself back and forth, just as he had done before. And per Dumbledore's orders, they did not approach again.

"Who's going to tell Harry?" Charlie asked quietly, clearly concerned with whomever got that job being the right person for it. Bill went down the stairs and sat next to his brother after nodding to his parents that all was still well with the four in Ron's room, and that the twins had yet to kill Percy.

Molly looked over at Arthur, at a loss. How did one tell a child something like that? And who would be best for the job? "Professor Dumbledore maybe?"

"I think Sirius would be best." Arthur added. He ignored the annoyed look on Molly's face, as she did not like Sirius Black. Innocent or no, they did not get along. Their ideas of how Harry should be treated were very different. Molly believing that Harry was still a child and should be treated as so, and Sirius realizing that his godson had seen far more than others and deserved to make his own choices.

Bill sent a glance back towards the kitchen, frown on his face. "I wonder when they're coming. And who's first? Sirius and Remus or Dumbledore and Madame Pomfrey." He asked.

The mere thought of the look that would be planted on Sirius's face made Arthur snort. "Sirius. He'll break down the door."

"He'd better not." Molly firmly stated. The windows in the house had been repaired, but the shock of having them all blown out was still fresh in everyone's mind. "Besides, he won't want to startle James, would he?" she asked, knowing full and well that he wouldn't. No one did. Especially now that they'd seen that James Potter was far better at wandless magic when upset than anyone else they'd ever seen.

"Imagine what Harry'll say." Charlie mused, slightly amused by the thought and worried at the same time. "I wonder if he'll believe us."

Two pops sounded in the room and Remus Lupin and Sirius Black stood anxiously in the Weasley's living room. "He'll believe me." Sirius stated. The look on his face said that he believed just that.

"Sirius!" Bill nearly shouted, startled. Bill, Charlie and the twins got along with Sirius just fine. And Arthur, who had been a few years ahead of Sirius, Remus and James found their presence somewhat nerve racking. They had spoken only a few times during school – and found them all to be nice - but the memories of the marauder's pranks were forever embedded into his mind.

Molly stood up in a second with her finger to her lips, "Shh! You don't want James or Harry to hear you!"

"Harry's still upstairs?" Remus asked quietly. Molly rounded on he and Sirius, though neither of them cowered in her presence. Sirius merely stared at her, clearly unimpressed. Whereas the Weasley men winced.

Charlie stood up, "Yes, they are. I'd best go tell them we're all still alive. They're not exactly believing our story. We're lucky Harry and Ron haven't charged down here yet."

"With Hermoine watching? No." He shook his head, "For two boys who break rules continually, it's slightly surprising to see what a hold she has on them." Arthur commented, smirking. Ron and Harry would not be pleased to have heard that.

But Sirius and Remus weren't paying attention, both of their stares were directed at the door that they both knew lead to the kitchen. Molly watched them both, remembering how Dumbledore said that they weren't to approach him.

"You aren't going in there until Dumbledore says it's all right." She warned.

"I'm going in there whether you like it or not. He's my best friend, and I can help. So you just back the hell off, Molly!" Sirius nearly yelled. The look in his eyes caused Mrs. Weasley to do just that. She nodded tensely, but geared herself for James' explosion, Albus's reprimands or Sirius's breakdown.

Tentatively Sirius moved toward the door. Remus was right behind him, but had long since chosen to let Sirius talk to James first. They were as close as twins, and if anyone besides Harry could help James, it was Sirius.

The room was lit by a fire, but was still dark. Neither of them needed to glance around the room to find James. He was right in front of them. And besides the fire, he was the only one moving.

"James..." Sirius whispered, amazed that this could be his best friend. Dumbledore had been truthful, you could see him shaking. This was it, this is what Sirius had been waiting for. He took a step forward and didn't notice when Remus stayed glued to his spot. "Prongs?"

James made no sound or movement at his old nickname. Old for them, present time for James. It hadn't been so long since he'd been called that, but a lifetime had passed since anyone addressed someone with it. He continued shaking and didn't say a word to Sirius, though he kept up his normal string of statements.

"Oh god...where's Lily? She's dead...all my fault. No, this isn't happening. Harry."

Sirius reeled back and closed his eyes, not wanting to hear his best friends say those things. The grief in his voice was far from just evident, it could almost be touched. Beside them Remus let out one lone tear, though he didn't notice it, nor did Sirius. The Weasleys stayed quiet behind them, but watched the whole scene unfold with pity and sympathy. Not even Molly dared to interrupt

With a few deep breaths, Sirius approached James again. "Jamie? It's me, its Padfoot." He whispered, sitting on the floor in front of James. Remus stared in wonder as Sirius's hand reached out for James. Even Sirius himself was worried that if he touched James that he would just fade away. Or he'd wake up. That something would happen to make this not real.

But as his hand inched forward, he could feel the heat that was radiating off of James. His fingers connected with James's shoulder and he let out the breath he hadn't been aware of holding. _"You're real..."_ he whispered.

James's head shot up, having been touched for the second time. But he didn't say anything, he just stared at Sirius questioningly. Both Remus and Sirius realized that James was still only twenty-one, whereas they were in their mid-thirties. They looked older than they were. But neither had suffered some horrible disfiguring accident, so they basically did look the same. Would James recognize them though?

"James...it's me. Sirius." Sirius whispered again, still unsure why he was whispering. He hoped, to whoever brought James back from the dead, that his best friend knew him. That he'd believe that it was really him. Even though he realized that there was a chance that James wouldn't. Or that he wouldn't believe it. But Sirius vowed that if James didn't believe it, that he would make him.

But James merely shook his head, "No...Sirius is dead. It's all my fault, they're all dead. He killed them." His voice was raspy and made everyone in the room want to cry. They'd never heard anything like the depth of emotion in James's voice. But were all horrified when James added, "I killed them."

Sirius closed his eyes, "No, James. You didn't kill anyone, nothing's your fault. It's Peter's fault, not yours. Don't blame yourself." He near pleaded for James to understand. He knew what it was like to carry guilt around like that, he didn't want anyone else to feel that. James and Harry least of all.

This time James said nothing to Sirius, but rather to something no one could see. He looked down with unfocused eyes. Brokenly, he whispered, "I'm sorry."

Grabbing James by either side of his face, Sirius forced James to look directly at him. James didn't resist. "James, that's not true! You have nothing to be sorry for. I'm not dead, I'm right here. It's me, it's Padfoot. I'm right here." He repeated again. He turned back to look at Remus, spreading his arm out to gesture to him, "And Remus is here too! We're all okay, Prongs."

Hazel eyes narrowed and stared hard at Sirius, as if searching for the meaning of life. "No..."

With a sudden bolt of inspiration Sirius made James look at him again. "Okay, Jamie, look you won't believe Sirius, right? But Padfoot can't lie." He said. James looked confused, and if they had bothered to look at anyone else, they would have seen that everyone else had no clue what Sirius was talking about.

But Sirius, while not known for rational thinking, was known for cleverness. He quickly transformed into Padfoot. The big black dog sat in front of James, who was looking as though he was going to start crying again. You could not duplicate an animagus form. No spell or potion could.

Behind them, Dumbledore and Madame Pomfrey came in. Poppy took in a deep breath as she watched James stare at Sirius. And Dumbledore showed no emotion, he merely took in what was in front him with his eyes twinkling brightly. Neither moved to break up whatever Sirius had come up with though.

Through the dog's eyes Sirius watched James stare at him. He could see the emotions passing through his eyes. Slowly James reached a hand out and it hovered about Sirius's head. He looked unsure as to what to do. But Sirius made a reassuring whine and the hand fell on top of his head.

James seemed to be in shock when his hand didn't go through Sirius. "Padfoot...you're here."

Wanting James to have a bit more time to confirm that he was in fact real, Sirius stayed as he was. Gently, James started petting the big black dog in front of him, crying for real this time. He'd thought that everyone he loved was dead, so to have his two best friends really alive was a lot for him.

His mouth was still open, and he was nearly chattering. Seeing that James was getting upset all over again, Sirius transformed and grabbed his friend into a hug. "I can't believe this, James, we're all together again."

Burying his head into Sirius's shoulder, James gripped his friend tightly. He seemed afraid that it would all go away and he'd be alone again. Though, Sirius was doing the same thing, so there really was no harm done.

Sirius was shocked at how cold and wet James was, though his forehead feverish at the same time. He held James close, hoping some of his own heat would transfer to his friend.

"I'm so scared, Padfoot. This wasn't supposed to happen. How could he...Wormtail." James whimpered, though muffled by Sirius's shoulder. His voice shook and only Sirius and Remus heard him clearly, aided by their animal hearing.

Sighing, Sirius tried to reassure James. "Don't be afraid, Prongs. We're here. And I promise I won't let anything happen to you again. I swear it James." His robes were getting soaked from James's tears, "It's all right now."

Remus came up from behind them and quietly put a hand on both of their shoulders.

_

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_

_Okay, like I said, slightly intense chapter. Another thing in most James comes back stories that I don't agree with is that James and Sirius just hug and then instantly start thinking of ways to prank people. No, I'm sorry, if you're best friend - and pretty much brother - comes back to life after a really hard thirteen years, you're not going to be that calm. That's just my opinion. Basically, if you're all hoping for quick humor and tons of pranks, then you'd best just stop now and pick it up around chapter twenty or so. Just a warning. This is angsty as hell, drama galore, and the poor Harry Potter characters are going to need stock in a tissue company. _

_I've decided that the next chapter is going to basically be James's POV of this part. I'd really like writing his feelings on finding out Sirius is alive, which is why I purposely left it so you didn't get his sure feelings, just how he looked at the time. _

_For everyone asking after Lily, I don't know. I'm sorry, but I don't know yet. Right now I'm leaning towards her not returning, but I've been known for changing my mind. For everyone who wants Harry to see James soon, all in good time. And everyone who's putting in ships requests, please keep doing so. Right now there aren't any couples or prospective couples, but there maybe later on. I'm pretty much open to everything though, not slash. I've got no problem with slash, but I won't be writing it, as I'd do a horrible job - so none of that. Plus it's not really going to work for this story. But otherwise, I'm open to all, so put it all in. Sorry for the long author's note. Please review!_

**_Stars Enchantress_**


	6. Thoughts of the Crazed Mind

**The Return of the Father: **Thoughts of the Crazed Mind

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_Hey guys! Thanks for the reviews for last chapter. This is the last one taking place during the same night. The next chapter will mark a new day. _

_As promised, the start of this chapter is James's point of view for what happened in the last chapter. _

-----------------------------------The Burrow

James sat in the corner of the Weasley's kitchen, alone. The people who had been talking around him were long since gone. He was glad, for focusing on them was far too hard. He could barely hear them with all of Harry's screaming going on in his head.

"Harry...oh baby, I'm sorry." He whispered, not caring that he'd said it a million times before. He couldn't ever make up for what had happened. How he had failed his son. Though he would do anything for that chance. "I tried, Harry, I really tried."

Lily would know what to do in this situation. She would know how to get answers. She would have been strong enough to get up off the floor and go track down Peter and Voldemort. But James wasn't that strong.

It should have been her to live. Or Harry. Harry was too young to die. At least he and Lily had the chance to live. But they were both gone and he was there in their place. He didn't deserve it. And he didn't want it.

His mind was still swimming, hearing things that he wasn't sure were real or not. Thinking was too hard, at least rational thoughts. All he could do was go over the deaths of his loved ones and the state of his home in his mind, again and again. Was that what he would do the rest of his life?

From in front of him, James thought he heard something. But he couldn't make it out. Was it his name? And who was saying it? That woman had known his name, was she back? He hoped not, all he wanted was to be left alone.

The woman had red hair, he'd seen that. Not red like Lily's, no never like hers. "Oh god...where's Lily? She's dead...all my fault."

No matter what line of thinking he started, it all came down to them. The two best things that had ever happened to him. "No, this isn't happening. Harry." He whispered, denial slipping from him and horrible realization settling in.

His son, his beautiful boy. He'd been so proud of Harry. Every little think that Harry did amazed James. From speaking, block building or flinging his food across the room. Even the steady rise and fall of his son's chest had impressed James. Because as far as he was concerned, his son did it best, everything Harry did was far better than everyone else. His son was special.

"_Jamie? It's me, its Padfoot."_

The whisper startled him, but he ignored it anyway. Sirius was dead, and that was all there was to it. He could hear Harry cry, and now he heard his best friend speaking. Would Lily and Remus come soon? They were all so angry with him.

A hand dropped on his shoulder and James snapped his head up. Who was it?

"You're real." The man in front of him whispered. He didn't know this person, just like he hadn't known the woman. But his eyes, they were familiar. The color was the same silvery blue of Sirius's. But these eyes were older, the spark of mischief wasn't present. These eyes looked sad. And Sirius Black was hardly ever sad.

As much as he wanted it to be him, for Sirius to really be there, he knew it wasn't. But if it wasn't Padfoot, than who was it? And why were they there? The person's eyes looked hopeful, in addition to that sadness. What was he hoping for? And why didn't someone tell this person that he shouldn't hope for anything from James. All he could do was fail.

"James...it's me. Sirius." He whispered. Why did he keep doing that? Couldn't he hear Harry screaming? It was hard to tell what he was saying, but James still caught it. For the briefest second, James allowed himself to hope again. But he squashed it quickly.

This was not Sirius. Sirius was dead.

And he told the man exactly that. "No...Sirius is dead. It's all my fault, they're all dead. He killed them." James shook his head, ignoring the horrified look the man's face displayed. "I killed them."

In front of him, the man closed his eyes. He started talking, and James tried to listen best he could. His eyes opened and a tear slipped from them. The man grabbed his face, forcing him to pay attention. "James, that's not true! You have nothing to be sorry for." James vaguely noticed that his own tears had stopped. "I'm not dead, I'm right here. It's me, it's Padfoot. I'm right here." He desperately cried. The man flung his hand back and gestured to someone behind him. "And Remus is here too! We're all okay, Prongs."

James slowly glanced at the man that this fake Sirius wanted him to see. It looked like Remus. Just like this person looked like Sirius. But they both looked so much older. And so much more sad. Remus, or the person who pretended to be him, was crying. But he said nothing, neither of them did.

He looked back to the other man. His eyes narrowed and he looked at him hard. It did look like Sirius. And his voice sounded like Padfoot too. "No..."

"Okay, Jamie, look you won't believe Sirius, right? But Padfoot can't lie." The mischievous glint that his best friend had always had in his eyes was there again, and James was mesmerized by it. But his words made no sense. Padfoot and Sirius were the same person. But Padfoot was a dog. James didn't know what was going on.

The man slid into something else before his eyes. A dog. A black dog as large as a grim.

_Padfoot._

You cannot duplicate an animagus form. You can't, it's not possible. No spell, and no potion can do it. If this man could change into Padfoot, then this man was Sirius. James felt his hand reach out of it's own accord. Had he been paying attention, he would have realized that the return of his best friend had shocked him so much that he could no longer hear Harry crying. But he didn't.

All he saw was his hand, hovering above the dog's head. Padfoot watched him. And James wasn't sure what to do. A reassuring whine came from the dog, and with that James lower his hand onto the dog's head.

"Padfoot...you're here." He whispered. His hand rested on top of Padfoot's head, and stayed there. This was real.

He felt the tears start to run out of his eyes again. He'd never been much of a crier, but now he couldn't seem to stop. James couldn't believe it. Padfoot and Moony were there, and they were alive. Neither of them looked angry with him, either. As gently as he could manage with a shaking hand, James started petting the dog in front of him. The dog was Sirius, but he didn't care much either way. He didn't notice the shaking his body was doing, or the chattering of his teeth. Just that his two best friends were in front of him.

Padfoot disappeared and Sirius replaced him. James felt himself being grabbed into a hug, and he welcomed it. "I can't believe this, James, we're all together again." Sirius whispered into his ear.

Not caring about anything else going on around him, James just buried his face into Sirius's shoulder, gripping his friend tightly. Remus was real, Sirius was real, and they were there. That was all that mattered. He grabbed and Sirius more tightly, afraid to let him go. If Sirius and Remus went away again, James didn't know what he would do.

"I'm so scared, Padfoot. This wasn't supposed to happen." James whimpered out, unashamed to be crying and admitting this to his friend. "How could he...Wormtail."

The thought of Peter made him want to throw up. Voldemort had been expected. That they knew about. People feared him, and the threat was ever present. But Peter he'd trusted. Peter was the one he'd loved like a brother. Peter was the one that betrayed them.

Sirius shushed him with a sigh, "Don't be afraid, Prongs. We're here. And I promise I won't let anything happen to you again. I swear it James. It's all right now." The two friends slowly started rocking back and forth.

And for some reason, James believed him. Whether it was the conviction in Sirius's voice, or the fact that he knew his best friend quite well, either way, James believed him.

A hand fell onto his shoulder, and James knew it was Remus. Whispering, just low enough for the animagus and the werewolf to hear, "I missed you both. I thought you were gone. I'm so glad you're alive, Moony, Siri."

"We're glad to see you too, James. It's been so long." Remus whispered back to him. James didn't know what he meant by so long, and he didn't have time to find out before his eyes drooped closed.

And, for the first time since he'd appeared in Godric's Hallow, Harry's cries ceased, and James finally felt safe.

* * *

_Good? Bad? So terrible you didn't make it though? Tell me guys! I realize that this is chapter six and we're still on the same night, but don't worry, the next chapter will be a whole new day. Finally, hu? _

_It seems that you've all answered my two questions pretty unanimously. I'm really happy that there wasn't a whole lot of "please bring Lily back" in reviews, as I'm not big on disappointing, and I don't want to bring her back – at least not yet. There were a few, all with valid points in them. I think there needs to be that element of death in the story. Everything can't get all peachy after only this far in the story. As of now, I'm saying she's not coming back, but don't entirely rule it out._

_In the ships department, we've pretty much had the same response. Harry/Ginny and Ron/Hermoine. I've also gotten a few pleas for Harry/Luna or Harry/Hermoine. I'm telling you right now, people, there is NOT going to be heavy romance going on here. But I'm just getting the idea of what you all want now, so if I do decide it's time for some teenage love angst, I'll know. I'm actually a bit farther ahead of what you're reading (as of now, I'm writing chapter nine). _

_Oh, and to everyone who's been praising my quick updates. Chances are, the more positive reviews I get, the more inspired I become. The more inspired I get, the faster I write. When they're all written, I have no problem with posting every few days. Jeez, I've got to stop these long author's notes!_

_Please review!_

_**Stars Enchantress**_


	7. Bits of Information

**The Return of the Father: **Bits of Information

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_Hello everyone. Thanks so much to the reviewers, you have no idea how much I love the feedback you give me!_

_All right, after having more than a few people tell me that they were crying, I am officially warning everyone, this may be considered a tearjerker. You have been warned!_

-------------------------------------Hogwarts – Hospital Wing

Two days. That was how long he'd been pacing the floor in the hospital wing. Since it was summer, and most teachers were either home or on missions for Dumbledore, Sirius was allowed to do this pacing in his human form.

James had fallen asleep in his arms with Remus next to them two days ago in the Weasley kitchen. Madame Pomfrey had pried James out of his arms and he'd been asleep in the hospital wing ever since.

With a chuckle, Remus made his presence known from behind Sirius. "Still pacing, Padfoot? I never thought there was much merit to that old saying about pacing a hole in the ground, but another day of this and you'll test the theory."

"Shut it, Moony." Sirius growled. His nerves had been more than frazzled by the fact that James's eyes hadn't even fluttered open in the last two days. It was like he was dead all over again. Something that he was not taking well. On top of that, Madame Pomfrey kept jumping when she turned around and saw him sitting there. This from the woman who said she was practically his mother because of the amount of time he'd spent in the hospital wing in the seven years of school. "I'm not in the mood."

Sighing, Remus walked in and sat down in the chair next to James's bed. "No one is in the mood for much right now, Sir."

"Well, I'm in the mood for James to wake the hell up!" Sirius loudly stated. He listened for a second, waiting for Madame Pomfrey, but she didn't show. He was in the clear on that one.

Remus stayed quiet, but then added, "We all want that, Padfoot. But he needs to rest."

Head dropping down and eyes closing, Sirius conceded the point silently. Remus knew he'd won that battle. "Sirius, sit down. You've been pacing for hours."

"How'd you know?" Sirius asked as he plopped down in the chair.

"I've been passing by a few times. Back and forth between the library and Dumbledore's office." Remus explained, exhaustion shinning through the strong façade briefly. It had been a hard few days for everyone involved. Plans had to be made. They had to figure out what to do about the ministry, which wanted to send a teacher of it's own for the DADA position. There was constant planning for Voldemort going on.

Most importantly, now they had to figure out how to keep James safe, and how to tell Harry.

"And what does Dumbledore say?" Sirius asked, keeping his anger at bay. The old headmaster was not coming by to keep him informed. But Sirius had an idea of what was going on.

Gearing up for yet another battle, Remus answered, "Ministry problems, Voldemort problems, you know."

"Potter problems."

Remus sighed, "That to." He couldn't deny what Sirius already knew. "There are a lot of new questions, Sirius."

"You think I don't know that?" Sirius bitterly asked. "I've asked every single one of those to myself. How to tell Harry about James. How to tell James about Harry. How to keep them safe from Voldemort. From themselves, even. Trust me, Remus, there is no question that I've yet to ask myself."

Feeling the need to break the tense feeling of the room up, Remus added, "Umm...the look on Fudge's face when he sees James? Actually, the look on Severus's face should be nice."

"Thought of both. I've yet to figure out if Snape will look homicidal or suicidal though." Sirius added with a bark-like laugh. "But I _am_ hoping for suicidal."

Remus couldn't help but laugh with him, "Yes, I know you want that, Padfoot. Imagine James's reaction when he finds out that Snape is now _Professor _Snape. He might pass out for another two days."

By now the look on the potions master's face was causing Sirius to shake in silent laughter, frustrations temporarily forgotten. Which is exactly what Remus had been hoping for.

He knew that the coming days would be tense, and probably tear-filled. Sirius would be in the thick of it. We were both James's best friends, but only Sirius was Harry's godfather. The thought sobered him up quickly, Sirius had to tell Harry. But there was also competition in that front. "Dumbledore isn't sure if you should tell Harry, or he should."

"Me, I will. No one else." Sirius instantly answered, conviction evident in his voice. "I'm the one telling James, and I'm the one telling Harry."

"I don't envy you on either account." Remus wearily answered. "You just have to make sure you don't lie to Harry, Sirius."

Confusion became evident on Sirius's face. He would never lie to Harry. Remus quickly added, "You can't let him think that everything is all right, because we don't know if it is. He has to know that James may not be okay. That's what Dumbledore is worried you'll allow him to think. It would crush him if James weren't okay. But it would crush him more if he was convinced that he would be."

Sirius sighed, understanding Remus now. "I know. I won't let him think that. But...god Moony, I'll have to give him everything that he ever wanted in one sentence and then yank it right back in the next."

"I know, Siri, I had to do the same to you." He answered, remembering the look on Sirius's face when he'd been told that James was alive, and then the look of devastation when he'd been told he might not be sane. "Dumbledore had to do it to me. We've all realized that."

Shaking his head, Sirius disagreed, "Yes, we've already felt or done that. But it's different for Harry. He's always wanted a father. He was ecstatic for a supposed murder godfather. I know that his parents have always been what he wanted most." Sighing, Sirius continued, "We got to know James. We do know James. And Lily. But Harry can't remember them. He remembers them dying. And now, James is here, and he's alive. But he might not be..._James_."

Remus knew what Sirius was saying, it had been on everyone's minds since James had gotten there. Even Professor McGonagall had voiced the same aspects. "When are you going to tell him?"

"After I tell James." Sirius answered easily. It appeared that he'd taken his vast amount of pacing time and put it to good use. "Which is as soon as he wakes up."

Eyebrows rising, Remus thought that was a bit soon. "You're just going to pounce it on him when he wakes up?"

"You heard him, Moony. He wants Harry. Waiting is only going to mess up his mental state more" A rueful smile broke out over Sirius's face, "That plus if and when he does get better, I don't want him killing me because I waited to tell him his son was alive."

When Sirius had a point, he had one. And Remus couldn't dispute this one. "Yes, he might kill you. But if he's not ready, he might not believe you."

"At least I can say that he's been told though." Sirius responded, spirits in the dirt practically.

A movement out of the corner of their eyes tore their attention from each other and to the figure in the bed. James wiggled around a bit and moaned quietly. It was the same moan he used to use when he had a hangover. The thought cause Remus to have to suppress a smile.

James's eyes snapped open and he darted up in bed. Sirius put a hand on his shoulder, "Whoa, calm down there, James. You're in the hospital wing. Really, you've woken up here a million times before, and you didn't recognize it." He teased good-naturedly, smile on his face.

Remus smirked also, "Leave the poor guy alone, you mutt." Had he been sitting closer, he would have taken a swat at Sirius. But, sadly, there was a bed between them.

Within moments of hearing Remus's voice, James turned to look at him. "Moony." He stated, clearly but simply.

"Prongs." Remus answered in the same voice as James, hoping to either get James to respond or at least crack a smile.

But James did neither, and just continued to stare. After almost a full minute, he turned and stared at Sirius, whose smile – while still there – was starting to fade. The room stayed quiet.

"I thought...I thought it was a dream." James whispered after more seconds had ticked away. He sounded like he'd just been told that pigs really could in fact fly and were actually quite good at it.

Sirius smiled, pleased that so far that was it. The smile was fully reinstated on his face. "Well, as dreamy as I am..." he started, but broke off. Seriously, he answered for real this time. "We are real, James, don't doubt that."

Nodding, Remus agreed. "Yes, James. You're really here, we're really here, and Madame Pomfrey will really kill us if we don't tell her you're awake." He added with a chuckle. Remus started to get up, but James shot his hand out to grab him around the wrist.

"Just wait...just a second." He desperately asked, eyes pleading with Remus to just wait a moment before getting the nurse. Remus sat back down instantly. "This is too confusing...I can't, I can't think." James whispered, closing his eyes. Remus and Sirius looked at each other, concerned.

Finally, he opened his eyes. James looked back and forth between them. "How?"

"How what, James." Sirius asked, puzzled. He leaned in and watched James intently. His friend dropped his face into his hands and took a deep breath.

James's thoughts were in a jumble. In one night it seemed, he'd gone from believing Remus and Sirius dead, to finding out they were alive, to being convinced it was a dream, and now he was back to them being alive. He was happy beyond a doubt about that, but still didn't understand. "How are you here. Alive."

"That's the question people are going to beat down doors to ask you." Sirius answered. "We didn't die James." His voice dropped down to a whisper. "But you did."

The younger man in the room, who by all right should have been their age, raised his head from his hands and stared incredulously at Sirius. "I'm not dead!" he indigently cried, causing Remus to crack a smile.

"We thought you were, Prongs. It's been a long time." Remus answered for Sirius.

Narrowing his eyes, James watched Remus intently, "You said that already. Before. At that...kitchen."

"The Weasley's house." Sirius supplied helpfully. "You remember Arthur Weasley? Right, James? Red hair, a few years above us."

Wracking his brain, it took James to remember whom he was talking about. But sure enough he did remember. "Nice guy. Jinxed his hair into a red mohawk, right?"

Remus clapped his hand over his eyes, remembering the prank that James had mentioned. It had been awhile since he'd remembered that. No wonder Arthur Weasley looked at them strangely sometimes. "Yes, that Weasley. You met his wife, by the way. Molly. She's also very nice, bit of a force of nature though." He continued on, hoping he wouldn't have to tell James just how long it had been. "They've got six sons and one daughter. The twins, Fred and George, worship the Marauders. They're almost as bad as we were."

"They found the map." Sirius added, seeing that Remus would have to exit the room before he could tell James anything.

But James would not be deterred from his question. Maps and Marauders were important, but this was high on his list. "How long has it been, Moony?"

The two other Marauders sent a glance each other's way. Both communicated with their eyes. With a gentle slap to James's back, and no word to Sirius, Remus got up and left the room.

Sirius didn't look back or say anything either, and James looked questioningly to him. "We need to talk, Prongs."

* * *

_Now, is that a cliffhanger or what!? _

_I feel a long wait between chapters coming on...hehe, just teasing. Or not. _

**_Stars Enchantress_**


	8. Almost Revelations

**

* * *

**

The Return of the Father: Almost Revelations

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_Hey guys. Jeez, I didn't think everyone would have such an adverse reaction to a small little cliffhanger! LOL. Well, here's your chapter, stop cursing me!_

**_Thank you so much to all of the reviewers! _**

----------------------------------Hospital Wing

James watched Sirius run a hand through his shoulder length black hair. It was a bit messier than James remembered it, and a lot less well kept. Remus's own hair had been streaked with gray, something that hadn't been present the last time they'd seen each other. "You're older." He stated, not a question or even said with a curious tone. James was merely saying the facts.

Sighing, Sirius nodded, "Yes, I'm older." He took a deep breath before revealing just how much older. "I'm thirty-four, Prongs. As is Remus."

Sitting up instantly felt like too much of an effort. James fell back heavily against his pillows. He didn't say anything, he just stared at Sirius, taking in his appearance.

For all it was worth, Sirius didn't look that bad. To the marauders, thirty seemed like an ancient age. In their defense, they were never really expecting to make it that far. Whether it be pranks, lycanthrope, or the war, getting to thirty seemed a bit out of reach.

There were only a few new lines on Sirius's face. Not enough to make him seem old. His hair hadn't gone gray or thinned out any. He was paler, which was for sure. Sirius had always sported a tan, but there was no tan now. He was thinner, far thinner than James remembered.

But it was his eyes that gave him away. Even Dumbledore had younger eyes. Sirius had seen far more than what James would have imagined. There was a sadness, one that he had noticed before, in his eyes that seemed destined to stay there. A haunted look also was present in the silvery blue that James knew very well.

"What happened to you?" He whispered, still shocked from the information, both spoken and seen.

Sirius let out a bitter laugh, which sounded like his customary bark. The laugh didn't help calm James any. "Long story, Prongs. I'd really like to know what happened to you."

James stared out at space, very much like Sirius had seen him do before. He was about to ask again, when James snapped out of it. "I don't really know." He answered, sounding puzzled himself, "Harry started..." James trailed off, thoughts of his son too painful to deal with.

As much as Sirius wanted to tell James right then and there, he couldn't. If he told James about Harry, then he wouldn't ever find out what happened. "Harry started what, James?" he prodded gently.

Closing his eyes, James drew in a deep breath. Trying again, he started, "Harry started crying. And you know how he...was. He never cried. Ever. He could get sick, be upset or hungry, but he wouldn't cry. We should have known. I should have realized..." James stopped, tears coming out of his eyes again. Self-loathing swept over him painfully.

Sirius sat on the bed next to him, and put a hand on his shoulder. "It's all right, James. It's not your fault. Keep going."

"We tried to calm him down. Lily and I. And even after he stopped screaming he was still crying. Just with tears going down his face, but he didn't make a noise." James said. He could still see Harry's nursery. He could feel his son in his arms, head against his shoulder. Lily was still right next to him, whispering a lullaby to Harry. He could hear her voice, and the rain outside. "Lily was singing to him." He whispered.

There was a stinging in his eyes that Sirius refused to acknowledge, James needed to get this out. He said nothing, and James kept going without any prodding this time.

"It was raining, kind of heavily. We thought that maybe it was the storm that had scared him. Never mind the fact that Harry loved lightning and thunder." James laughed, tears still streaming from his face. "We were being stupid. But either way, we thought that was it. Eventually we went downstairs, we were actually desperate enough to try and floo you."

Cracking a smile, Sirius couldn't help but laugh. "Gee thanks, Prongs."

"You were always good with him." James said, thoughts of his son making his heart hurt more than he knew was possible. It was like a physical pain, a part of his heart wasn't there anymore. "I was right. Everyone called me crazy, that would be the worst godfather, but I was right."

It was hard not to picture the raised eyebrows and outright arguments that had followed James and Lily's decision. People had made such compelling arguments that Sirius had begun to believe them. Until, that was, he met his godson in the hospital. And as it had been for James and Lily, he had loved the child on sight.

James didn't pay attention to what Sirius was doing, he was still lost in his own memories. "We were looking for the floo powder. We don't use it much...hate that stuff. But we heard something. Actually, Harry heard it. He stopped crying instantly, and just looked at me. He looked so scared."

"I knew who it was instantly, who else could it be? I told Lily to take Harry and run, but the fireplace floo connection was gone. The doors were stuck closed. I said I'd hold him off, and Lily ran up the stairs. Harry had started screaming again." James explained, the sound of his son's crying was ringing in his ears again. "Voldemort burst in only seconds after."

"And?" Sirius prompted, practically on the edge of his seat. This might be were they got a clue as to what happened. A spell that was cast, something. Anything that could tell him what had happened.

James merely shrugged this time, as thought the climax of the story was really quite dull. "We dueled." He said, matter of fact sounding. Most people would either speak of such a think with pride or fear, but never James. Sirius realized with a jolt that James's eyes were unfocused, he was lost in the past. He was reliving every minute of that night. It could help them figure it out, but it could also destroy James even more.

"What was the last..." Sirius broke off, unsure what to say. Even if it was all right to ask. But they had to know. "What was the last spell he cast?"

Staying quite, James seemed to be trying to figure out just that. Had there been a flash of green light? Had there even been a killing curse thrown his way? It made no sense in his mind. The slow motion of his last memories were too muffled to make anything out. His head was swimming and the call for sleep was becoming overwhelming. The more he remembered, the more he saw the desperation and even fear in Lily's eyes. He could hear her scream from above when curses were flying. His own wife's screams were blending in with his son's cries. Voldemort's shouts were being echoed. "I don't...I can't think. I just can't." James whispered, sounding broken again.

Sirius bowed his head in defeat, he couldn't make James remember. "It's all right, Prongs. Besides, we have something more important to talk about."

"I don't care. Do you hear me, Sirius?" James asked harshly. Tears were rolling out of his eyes and Sirius could see that his emotions were quickly changing. "I don't care!"

Unsure how to help, Sirius tried to do the only thing he knew how. Tell James the truth. Harry, even the knowledge that he was alive, would help James more than any comforting words or healthy potions. That was what his friend needed. But in his heart he knew that James was not ready to be told something like that. "James, listen to me."

"No! I'm not listening. How can you even hear?" He asked, trying to shove Sirius away. "Why are you here? You shouldn't care." He accused, but not saying anything against Sirius. The comment was against himself. He was implying that Sirius shouldn't care about him.

His best friend was slipping away again. The windows would be in danger in only a matter of minutes. "James, calm down. I'm here, and I do care. You can't stop that. It's going to be okay!"

"Liar. It's not going to be okay. Don't you get it?" James asked. He shoved Sirius off the bed, and the older man landed on the floor with a thud. James pulled himself up again and yelled down at him. "THEY'RE DEAD!"

Sirius could hear the rustling from the next room, Madame Pomfrey would be in the room, only in a few short seconds. The woman could run. James was out of bed now. "I can't stay here." He said.

Jumping up, Sirius tried to gently shove him back to the bed. "No, James, you can't go. You're safe here."

"Doesn't matter. Why don't you understand? It's my fault. I swore! I _swore _to Harry that I wouldn't let anything happen to him." James cried out. He shoved Sirius away from him again. "Get away from me!"

"Mr. Black!" Shouted the alarmed nurse from behind him. She took one look at James and instantly understood the situation. "Go, get out of my hospital wing." She whispered.

Sirius looked at James again, who had quieted down, but was still looking at the door longingly. After a second his face crumpled and he started shouting again.

The words didn't even make it to Sirius's ears, they were all the same. A shouted heartbroken version of what he'd heard two nights ago. Madame Pomfrey was pulling him away now. "Sirius, go. I'll take over now." She gently said, he spared her a glance and saw only compassion in her eyes. "Go." She repeated.

This time Sirius numbly obeyed. He walked down the corridors, James's voice fading in the distance behind him.

What in hell were they going to do now?

* * *

_Okay, seriously here, don't kill me. I'm not sure if I like this chapter or not, so please let me know your thoughts on it. I want to hear from everyone! Got that?! _

_Now people, did you honestly think it would just go all easily? Bad, bad, readers. Have I shown you nothing yet?_

_**Review! Please!**_


	9. Escaping the Burrow

**The Return of the Father: **Escaping the Burrow

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_Hello everyone. Thanks so much for all of the amazing reviews. This is for everyone who's been wishing for some Harry POV. You'll get it, all right?_

_I've really got to thank you all again. I just posted chapter six, and then went to work. I get back four hours later, hoping that there might be three or four reviews in my mailbox. There were twenty-four. **Seriously, guys, your response is amazing, and I can't thank you enough. **I didn't think this would go that well, I mean, there are a lot of James comes alive stories out there. Besides, contrary to what you guys keep writing (Thanks!), I don't think I'm that great of a writer. You've really blown away my expectations._

_Also, sorry for the small wait between chapters this time. I had to disconnect the computer do paint my room, plus I had to get out the latest chapter of Harry Potter and the New Start before this one (It had been updated before yours last time too, so it goes back and forth)._

----------------------------------The Burrow

The feeling that Harry tried to explain to Ron, Hermoine and Ginny hadn't gone away when they went down to breakfast the next morning. It didn't go away in the days after either. And the way that he'd been stared at by Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, along with Bill and Charlie, hadn't helped any.

He didn't want to worry Sirius, so he didn't owl him. And as much as Hermoine had fought for an owl to Dumbledore, he was firmly against it and would stay that way. The only other person that he could think of to write to was Remus.

His former professor had been keeping in touch with him almost as much as Sirius had been. According to Remus it was so that when they did see each other Harry wouldn't call him Professor. But Harry had the strong suspicion that it was because Remus was finally allowed and was using that to the fullest extent.

Remus had said he was in Hogwarts. Hedwig could easily make the journey, but somehow Harry felt like it was bigger than that. Something was telling him to go to Hogwarts and see Remus.

"Oi, Harry! You in there?" Ron loudly asked, waving a hand over Harry's eyes. Harry looked up at him, startled. That was just how far he was into his thoughts. Ron looked slightly concerned, but was smiling all the same. He couldn't have been out of it that long.

Harry let out a shaky laugh, one that Ron saw right through. "I'm here, Ron. The lights are on, have no fear." He assured him.

The bed across from Harry's cot creaked as Ron flopped down on it. The redhead's long limbs were stretched out across the bed and his feet were grazing the floor while his arms were spread apart. "That took far too long." He moaned.

"Getting me to respond or getting away from Percy?" Harry asked, half teasing and half truthful. Percy had taken to trying to get Ron onto the ministry path. Charlie and Bill already had their chosen professions, the twins were clearly a lost cause, and Ginny was mercifully too young. With all of the other siblings unavailable, that meant that Percy's target was Ron.

Ron pushed himself up using his elbows. He sent Harry a look that clearly read that Harry should stick it somewhere unkind. "Getting away from Percy. Poor idiot, doesn't seem to get that I won't ever join the ministry. Though being an auror does sound nice..." he trailed off, contemplative look on his face.

And Harry was right there with him on that one. An auror career was ideal for people like he and Ron. After all, they'd had more than enough experience with it.

Yet again, Ron broke into Harry's thoughts. "You're spacey today. Pretty soon you'll start gazing into crystal balls!" Ron exclaimed when he caught sight of the far away look on Harry's face. "What's up?" he asked.

Sighing, Harry once again struggled to figure out how to explain it. "It's just that feeling I told you about before."

"It's still there?" Ron asked, coming alert instantly. He hauled himself from laying to sitting and leaned over so his elbows were on his knees. His head was resting casually in the palm of his hands.

With a nod, Harry continued. "Yeah, it is. I just can't explain it. It's big, that I know." He sighed, "I just wish I could figure it out."

"Maybe Sirius would know?" Ron suggested. He'd taken quite the liking to Sirius in the visits that he'd been there for. They were both somewhat alike, in the fact that Ron was the second generation Sirius.

"I don't want to worry him. Not with Percy and me here at the same time. It would be too risky." He explained, as much as he didn't want to admit it to Ron. And sure enough Ron's face darkened at the mention of his brother. As far as Ron was concerned Percy was only a Weasley through last name and hair. Not by love. But Harry wasn't about to lie, as Ron was getting very good at seeing through it.

Ron stayed quite for a moment, and Harry could practically see the wheels turning. "Okay..."He dragged out the word, "Sirius is a no go. What about Remus?"

The appealing option was Sirius. But the smart one, and just as good, was Remus. "That's what I was thinking. He said in his last letter that he would be in Hogwarts. Think I should owl him?" he asked, contemplating. His eyes were focused on the floor in front of him.

Before Ron could answer with his opinion, Harry shook his head. "No, writing a letter wouldn't get information out of him. I mean, look how your Mum and brothers reacted to that guy in our kitchen. I've had this weird feeling since then."

"So you think that it's connected." The red head surmised.

They both heard a creak on the stairs and shut up instantly. It wouldn't do for the other Weasley's to know what they wanted to do. Both boys suppressed a groan when the door started to open, they'd been found out.

But the sight of Ginny and Hermoine wasn't exactly an unwelcome one. Ginny grinned at the looks on their faces, "Surprised you guys, I guess."

"Yeah, so sod off, we're trying to talk here." Ron shot back, the words lacking the sting that they would have had for anyone else in his family. Ginny realized this also, and merely sat down, Hermoine following.

The two girls set up shop on the floor between the two boys. "All right, what were you two talking about that's got you looking at us like we're foreign bugs or something?" Hermoine asked. She knew them far too well.

Without any hesitation, Harry started to explain. "It's just that feeling I had. It's still there, and I still can't explain it. We were trying to think of who I could ask. I mean, it could be something big." He paused, "I think it is at least."

Ron jumped in to help, "Harry's nixed Sirius. I mean, Sirius is liable to just come here to talk it out with Harry – or write a letter that could get intercepted. And we all know that the family ministry member," Ron spat out bitterly, "- is unlikely to appreciate a visit."

"And don't say Dumbledore." Harry added towards Hermoine. She said nothing and merely nodded, she appeared to understand why he wouldn't want to bring the headmaster into something that was based simply on a feeling.

Ginny looked thought for a minute. "Well, if worse came to worse, we could ask Dad." She offered, even though she seemed to think it was a lost cause either way. Her father was more likely to just tell them that everything was all right, to protect them more than baby them.

"He, Mum, Bill and Charlie have already proved that they're not going to tell us. Harry thinks it's got something to do with what happened three days ago." He stopped and then continued more quietly, "And I do too."

Hermoine nodded, "I agree." She said with utter conviction. The look she got from Ron was just short of incredulous, "I said when Bill came up here before that I didn't believe it was just some sick guy who apparated to the wrong spot. Besides, it's just too...easy or something. Like a false scare, when we all know that it's never false. There's always something big behind it."

Besides her, Ginny looked a little confused. "I mean, the firebolt, we were all nervous that was something evil. But it turned out that it was just a gift from Sirius." Hermoine used as an example, ignoring the smirks from Ron and Harry. "Or Fluffy in first year, we thought that was something terrible too. Turns out that Fluffy's a pet of Hagrid's and is there to protect the Sorcerer's Stone."

"All right, so that guy was someone important. And no one here will tell us who it was. We can't call Sirius or Dumbledore. Then who?" Ginny asked, musing aloud. She'd come to the same roadblock as everyone else.

But Harry was still thinking of Remus from before. The werewolf wouldn't fly off the handle like Sirius, and was more apt to tell them then Dumbledore would. Mind made up, Harry answered the question with no apprehension in his voice. "Remus."

"Professor Lupin?" Ginny asked, not used to calling her former professor by anything else but what she'd called him from the start. Hermoine, Ron and Harry were far more used to this.

Hermoine seemed to be thinking it over before nodding. "I think he would be great." And from the bed Ron nodded with her.

"I just don't want to write him, though. I mean, you can lie more easily in a letter. I'd rather ask him in person." Harry explained, knowing that they would understand. This left them with a new problem though, if Remus could hide the truth in a letter, how could they get it out of him in person, how would they even see him in person?

Everyone else realized this problem right away. "We could ride our brooms to Hogwarts?" Ron suggested questioningly. They were both good riders, but Harry's broom was far faster than Ron's old Cleansweep.

"Too many people would see you, didn't you learn anything from your second year?" Hermoine asked, exasperated that he'd even suggested pulling something like that again.

Harry agreed, "Hermoine's right. It's got to be something less visible and quicker than that."

"Floo powder." Ginny said, from out of nowhere. She watched in something akin to amusement as Harry's face visibly paled. She could never quite understand how someone, who had just completed round four with the dark lord and won, could be so afraid of something she'd been doing since she was a small baby. Then again, it was endearing at the same time. Either way, she'd made the best suggestion there was, and Harry knew it.

As much as the dark-haired teen would have loved to shoot that down, he knew full and well that it was the best way to go. "Okay, so say we do floo to Hogwarts. How would we get past your Mum?"

Wincing, Ron seemed to just realize that his mother wouldn't exactly like the idea of traipsing off to Hogwarts. "Um...ask the twins to explode something?"

"A distraction, good idea Ron." Hermoine praised, but then got a look of apprehension on her face, "But do we really want to ask the twins?" she asked hesitantly, looking between Ginny and Ron.

All three of them knew that the twins would be perfect at a distraction, but they might ask questions, at which point they'd either have to lie, give up or include two more people in their scheme.

Firmly shaking his head, Ron nixed the idea. "No, let's not ask the twins."

"I could distract Mum. And Hermoine could be your lookout, leaving you and Ron to get out of here by floo." Ginny volunteered. She looked back at Harry, who was giving her a grateful smile.

"How will you distract her, Gin?" Ron asked, curiosity edging his voice. "_You're_ not going to blow anything up, are you?"

Smiling, Ginny answered easily. "Girl-talk. I know that she'd love anything like along those lines that I could tell her. Being in a house full of boys can do that to you." She explained, ignoring Ron's scandalized look.

"We'd best run then, eh Ron?" Harry asked, suppressing a laugh at the look on Ron's face and then at his vehement nods.

All four stood up as if on cue. Hermoine didn't comment about the fact that she would not be going. One of them needed to stay and look out, and between her and Ron, it really should be him to go. Besides, Harry would tell her all she needed to know when they got back. Before they left the room, Harry made a quick check to make sure that he had the Marauder's map.

They worked their way down the stairs and moved as quietly as possible. Unsurprisingly, Molly was in the kitchen cooking what appeared to be cookies. She'd been baking a lot lately, and guiltily enough, most of which were favorites of Harry's. Ginny touched Harry's arm briefly and went in.

"Mum, I was wondering if I could talk to you."

"Well of course, Ginny dear, what is it?"

"I have this...er...well, I've got a boy problem."

All three held their breath as they slipped into the living room, where the fire would be. They could hear Ginny and her mother talking in hushed tones, like old school friends. Hermoine stayed by the door and winked at them both.

"Ready, Harry? You should go first." Ron suggested, holding out the floo powder. "And do remember to speak properly this time."

Rolling his eyes, Harry nodded nonetheless. He didn't comment, as his throat was getting tight at the prospect of a floo trip. Remembering about the wild tussle of the trip, Harry took off his glasses and put them in a pocket of his robes. "Good luck!" Ron whispered.

Harry merely nodded before saying in a quite but firm voice, "Hogwarts!"

And with a green gust of flames, he was gone.

* * *

_Okay guys, you've waited so patiently, that I'm quite sure you'll be pleased of the content of next chapter. No, you rushed people, not the meeting of Harry and James. But James does find out about Harry. Which means that the chapter after should be the talk between Sirius and Harry. And then the chapter or two after **THAT** should be the reunion. _

_This is what happens to me without a lovely outline, I go far too slow. And for everyone who's not liking the reason behind the wait, it wasn't that James was really unstable. That was why Remus warned Sirius that he had to make Harry understand that James might not be James. It was as Sirius said, he was waiting to tell James first, so there wouldn't be mishap meetings between the two. _

_Please, review, I'm seriously addicted. And no, that wasn't a joke. _

_  
**Stars Enchantress**_


	10. Sweet Baby Boy

**The Return of the Father: **Sweet Baby Boy

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_Okay, guys, are you ready? I'm seriously hoping for some tears to be shed on both sides here. This chapter is going to be longer than usual, so enjoy. There are actually two distinct storylines going on in this chapter and the next one. _

_I have to give a massive, grateful and embarrassed shout out to **Mariann's** who just told me that I've been spelling Hermione's name wrong! Why didn't anyone tell me!? I've been spelling it how I always pronounced it in my head. Then I added it to the dictionary so I wouldn't have to deal with spell check, so even if I had caught on and started spelling it right (I'm sincerely hoping that at least sometimes I've spelled it right) then the spell check changes it to the wrong spelling. I've fixed that now, so it won't do that anymore. Thank you so much, Mariann, as I feel incredibly stupid for spelling a core character's name wrong. **I'm sorry to everyone!** Seriously, I'm fighting the urge to go run and hide, that's how embarrassed I am. Again, so – so - sorry. _

___  
**Thank you so much to all of the reviewers!!**_

------------------------------------Hogwarts – Hospital Wing

Sirius's pacing hadn't really changed that much, location being the only new variable. After hiding away for twenty minutes, he had found the pull towards the hospital wing too much to ignore.

His mind was still spinning by what had happened. They had been so close, he had been only moments away from telling James the truth. But that was the problem, James was too mixed up for the truth.

He'd gone too quickly. Remus was right, he couldn't just pounce James like that. But he had to be told soon, as Harry couldn't stay in the dark much longer. He knew his godson pretty well, which meant that he knew that Harry wouldn't allow himself to stay in the dark for very long.

He was startled when the doors opened and Madam Pomfrey came out, no expression on her face. She'd perfected that when looking at him. "You can go in now. I've given him a potion to clear his mind a bit. He's entirely with it right now." She explained, hinting at something without saying a word.

Without a word to the old nurse, Sirius went back inside. His courage was waning with every step back towards James's bed. Taking a deep breath, he pasted a smile on his face and walked through the curtains, as though James should be expecting him.

"How's it going, Jamesy boy?" Sirius asked cheerfully. He was hoping that James would be clear enough to speak with without the time bomb effect. He was so sure that if James knew about Harry, that everything would get fine again. At least a lot quicker than it would if they continued to let him believe that his son was dead.

But after telling him of Harry, there would have to be so much more to share. Harry's life was a distinct starter, and that was not a story of all good things. What he himself had been doing all those years also would not go over well for James. To know that his friend had been in Azkaban would either get James angry at the wizarding world, or wrack him with guilt. Either way it would be a hard pill to swallow.

They needed to start with the biggest most important fact. Everything else could wait. James had to know that his son was alive.

"Sirius, I'm sorry." James started, but Sirius stopped him with a wave of his hand.

"It's all right, James. You had every right. I'd be a bit upset too, if I were you." Sirius said. He made his way to the bed and sank down in the seat next to it. Words seemed to fail him once he sat down though.

How was he supposed to do this? How could he tell James? Remus was right, could he just pounce it on him? Or did he slowly work up to it? There were too many different ways to say the sentence that would change James's life.

James appeared torn between confused and annoyed that Sirius was just staring. But he said nothing sarcastic about it, he didn't even comment. Instead, he whispered, "Where have you been." Even James sounded afraid of the answer.

It was apparent that James did not mean where he had gone when Madam Pomfrey had been with him. That was not what James wanted to know. He wanted to know how Sirius had lost that prankster's glint in his eyes. He wanted to know why it had been replaced by a haunted look.

Sirius knew exactly what James wanted to know. If he started that story though, he would not get to Harry. Sirius sighed, "That's not important, James."

"It's important to me, Sirius." James said, voice gaining a bit of strength. He needed something to focus on. Something to work through, it kept his mind from Harry. "You're different. And I don't mean age. It's your eyes. You're not...Sirius anymore. It's like you grew up, but in the worst possible way. In the worst possible spot."

A rueful laugh broke free despite himself. Sirius couldn't help it. James had hit it on the head. "You have no idea how right you are. But like I said, we have more important things to talk about."

"What's more important than what happened to you while I was gone?" James asked, bitter that he couldn't be there to protect his friend from whatever awful fate he had suffered. Seems he couldn't protect anyone right anymore.

Sirius looked James hard in the eyes. "Your son."

--------------------------------Hogwarts – Great Hall

Harry flew out of the fireplace with an ungraceful thump. He managed to keep himself from yelling in surprise and anger. He had just gotten there, he didn't want to rush off just yet. And if any of the teachers found him, well, that's exactly what would happen to him.

He took his glasses out of his pocket, along with the Marauder's map. Once he slid the glasses on his face, the hall became far clearer. A quick glance around provided him with a sigh of relief, there was no one else with them. He clutched the map in his hands. Before he could say the words to activate it, Ron came out of the fireplace. Albeit a lot more graceful than Harry.

"Not too much soot on you this time, I daresay you're getting better at this." Ron teased. Seeing the map, Ron nudged him to get on with it. Who knew what teacher was on their way to the Great Hall.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." Harry whispered. Before the boys' eyes the map came to life, the personal seal of the Marauders flashed and then the ink came out to draw the school.

They both looked over the map, watchful of teachers and their locations. Professor McGonagall was in her room. Dumbledore was pacing in his office, an activity that meant little, since the man paced at least an hour a day.

"There he is!" Ron hissed in his ear. He pointed with his wand to a apartment type room. Remus had obviously set up shop for a little while. It wasn't far from them, so they set off.

Neither noticed the occupants of the hospital wing.

-----------------------------------Hospital Wing

James felt a rising wave a depression fall over him. Harry, his son. How could Sirius bring him up right now? It was too hard to think if his baby. "What? Sirius...don't say his name. I can't think about Harry."

"You're going to have to, it's your parental duty." Sirius answered. Hating himself for what he had to do, he knew it was the right thing anyway. He pushed aside those feelings of guilt. James would understand soon enough. He took a deep breath, "If you could say anything to Harry right now, what would it be?"

His eyes closed, the expression on his face was of complete and total grief. His heart felt like it was incomplete. "I don't know, Padfoot. Can't we stop talking about this?" he asked, pleadingly.

"No, we can't. And I know you know what to say. If he was here, right now, what would it be James?" Sirius pressed on. They needed to get through this. Harry and James needed each other.

Sighing, James was defeated. He couldn't sidestep Sirius all night. The question was easy, but speaking was hard. "That I love him, more than anything on the world. That I'm sorry. I swore to him that I would always protect him, that nothing would ever happen to him as long as I was there. I didn't mean to lie, I thought I could protect him. I'm just so sorry that I didn't. I wish it were the opposite, that he had lived and I had died."

"Wish granted James." Sirius whispered. James looked confused. This was it. "You can tell him all of that."

His eyes narrowed and he couldn't even figure out what Sirius was talking about. But Harry's godfather kept going on. "He's here, Prongs. Harry's alive. You did give your life for him, he lived."

Neither of them said nothing, both waiting for reactions. Sirius waited for James to either smack him or ask for more information. And James was waiting for Sirius to take it away.

Seeing that they were getting nowhere, Sirius whispered again, _"James, Harry is alive. Do you hear me, your son his still here." _

James felt his heart stop. How could Sirius say that? Didn't he know how hard this was? He didn't understand what it was like to lose something that made your life worth living. "How could you do that!?" he harshly whispered, too drained to yell anymore. "How could you say that?"

Sirius hopped up on the bed and grabbed his shoulders, making James look at him and not anywhere else. He didn't say anything at first, he just looked at James. But James took the opportunity to see if there was any trace of a lie in Sirius's eyes. No matter what had changed in those eyes, James knew them.

The best friends had always been able to read each other very well. They could read fear and sadness, when the rest of the world saw only mischievous tendencies and a carefree attitude. Even Remus couldn't always see it. But James and Sirius could. They knew when the other lied. It was a rare occasion though, when they did lie to each other.

And James could see that this was not one of those times.

"No, he's gone. There's no way that he could be alive." He whispered, wishing he could allow himself to believe the truth of his son's fate. But he couldn't build it up. If he lost his son a second time, that would be it. He would not survive.

Sirius smiled, the first real smile he'd allowed out since he'd walked in the room a second time. "Well, we always did say he was special." Sirius added with a laugh. But James needed more information, and Sirius knew it.

Sighing heavily, Sirius sat back down in his own chair. This story was one he knew well, one that everyone knew well. But telling it to the person that it affected so greatly was harder than he would have thought it to be. "Okay, James, we got your half of the story, now I guess its time for the rest. After Voldemort...killed you I guess, he went upstairs. Lily did not get herself and Harry out of there. He blocked all ways of doing that." Another hard spot. Another heartbreak for James. "He told her to move aside, that he only wanted Harry. But Lily being the protective mother that she was said no of course. He – he killed her James. Lily's gone."

James nodded, he already knew that. It didn't make the hurt any less, but he still knew that to be the truth. Even if he wanted to, James couldn't have cut in. Sirius kept going though, determined not to stop.

"So that left Harry. Voldemort did cast the killing curse." James closed his eyes, grief retuning full force. But Sirius barreled on. "It rebounded, James. Voldemort was hit by it, not Harry. His spirit got torn from his body, and Harry got a scar. Nothing more. He's fine James. He's alive." He repeated again.

There were no words. He didn't know what to believe. Could this be true? They knew that his son might have the power to be the only one to stop Voldemort, but to stop the killing curse was something that James was unsure if even possible. He'd seen things he thought were impossible, but those times always had a shadow of possibility. Such as becoming an animagus. It was said to be impossible, but it was just that it was so dangerous that the truth of it had been distorted. But they did not call the killing curse such a name for no reason. There was never any chance of someone living. Let alone fourteen-month-old baby surviving.

"I know you're surprised, to say the least. But James, you know I would not tell you this unless I was more than a hundred percent sure. I know him Prongs. He was at the Weasley's when you apparated there. He's best friends with the youngest son, Ron." Sirius pressed on, speaking more for himself and to give James time.

James reached out his mind, trying to see if he could feel his son's presence. He was always so sure that he would know if anything was wrong with Harry, and he was usually right. How could he have missed it? But the loss of Lily and the betrayal of Peter were still weighing heavily on his mind.

A new type of hope filled his heart, his son was alive. His mind was coming to terms with what Sirius had said. He couldn't not believe it when Sirius was looking at him with such conviction. Harry, his son, his sweet baby boy, was alive. A smile crept up on his face, and Sirius knew that he understood.

"He's alive. Oh my god. My son...my baby. He's alive!" he whispered, and new kind of tears streaming out his eyes.

Sirius couldn't help but smile, "Yeah, that's right James. You've got a teenager to contend with now!"

"I don't care. He could be ninety. He's my son. And he's alive. And I love him...that's all that matters." James rambled on, with a giddy sound of voice.

It was exactly what James had needed, and Sirius had known that. All the wounds had not healed, but it was enough. With Harry there beside him, they would both heal. There was still more for James to find out, a lot more, but for now that was enough.

--------------------------------Remus's Room

There weren't many books on dead people coming back to life. It wasn't exactly a common occurrence, which stamped out half the books that Remus would have normally looked in. But he was still going to try.

His mind was still reeling from the fact that right now James was finding out his son was alive. It might have already happened, or Sirius could be poised on the word.

He wished he could have stayed, helped Sirius and James with both telling and accepting the truth. But he understood that this had to be between them. He would be there later to help with anything they needed.

But as much as he wanted to help, he did not envy Sirius.

"Remus!"

The werewolf looked up at his door. A sharp knock rapped against the wood. But it was not Sirius. Sirius did not know the meaning of the word knock. And Dumbledore would have sent a house elf for him. Curious, he stood up and opened the door.

To say that he was surprised to see Harry and Ron wasn't quite the right wording. But either way, they were there. They pushed past him without asking to come in first and shut the door behind them.

"Hello boys, do come in." He offered in an amused voice. But then the amusement drained from his face. Harry and James were under the same roof again. Sirius had better hurry up.

If Harry or Ron noticed the change of expression – which they did – they did not show it. Instead Ron casually shot back to him, "Of course, Remus, we'd love to come in."

"How did you two get here?" Remus asked, staring hard at Harry, who was now sitting and attempting to look at his book. Seeing where the teen's attention was, he quickly strode over and snapped the book shut, then threw it onto his bed. "Does Molly know you're here?"

Neither boy looked guilty as they both shook their heads. "No, Ginny's distracting her. We needed to talk to you. Actually, I need to talk to you."

Remus sat down, concerned. "About what?"

"Who was that man who accidentally apparated to the Burrow?" Harry plunged in, pleasantries long since forgotten as the feeling he'd had before became all the more intense. "I have this feeling Remus, like something's different. But it's not different, it's just here again. Like I've felt it before, but can't remember where. Something big is going on, isn't it?"

Sighing heavily, Remus inwardly marveled that they had managed to keep the truth from Harry so long. The boy was naturally curious, and his hunches were usually right. Ron looked just as serious and was sitting next to Harry, leaning closer to Remus. He knew that they could not be snowed.

"I'm not the right one to tell you." He answered lamely. Had he been in there shoes, he wouldn't have liked it either, which it seemed they didn't. "I'm sorry, Harry, but I'm not."

Rolling his eyes, Ron asked, "Then who is? I mean, who is more than you, who's known him since he was a baby and who was his father's best friend. You got someone better suited for the job?"

"Sirius." Remus answered, without hesitation.

"I don't want to worry him with this, Moony." Harry answered more quietly than the other two had been. He had been using the Marauder nicknames for the summer and had come to be very comfortable with it. "I'd rather just have you tell me now."

Remus stayed quiet, taking in what Harry had said. It was a valid point, had this been anything else. "He's going to tell you soon, Harry. We've been waiting so he could talk with someone else first, and then you're his next stop."

Both Harry and Ron looked a bit surprised. They had thought it would have been a bit harder than this. "Well, where is he?"

"Here. Look, just stay here, I'll go get him." With a nervous glance to the Marauder's map, Remus went on. "Swear to me you won't look on the map. Harry, you need to promise me."

Something in Remus's voice made Harry agree with a nod of his head. Normally he wouldn't do such a thing, but somehow he knew this was different. "I swear." Then, with a ghost of a smile, "Marauder's honor."

The older man looked fondly down on Harry, the reincarnate of James in looks. "Good, I'll be right back with Padfoot. All right, Pronglet?"

"Okay, Moony."

--------------------------------Hospital Wing

"Where is he? How old is he?" James shot out, not waiting for answers. For the first time he felt like he could breathe, his son was alive. "What does he look like? His house?"

Laughing, Sirius pushed his hand against James's mouth to shut him up. "Prongs, how can I answer your questions if you don't even pause long enough to give me the chance?"

The desired effect occurred and when Sirius pulled his hand away, James stayed silent. He didn't dare interrupt if it was about his son. Again, Sirius couldn't help but laugh at the eager look on James's face. "Okay, well, he's almost fifteen." He started.

James nodded, craving more information. He couldn't even believe it, a fifteen-year-old son. A quick bit of math in his head showed that Harry had just gotten out of his fourth year and was about to go into fifth.

"He's a Gryffindor, of course. No one really expected anything else. He's basically a trademark Gryffindor anyway. Brave, damn Prongs, I've never met anyone braver than Harry. And he's loyal, lets himself get ruled by his emotions sometimes. Smart too, except in Potions...but you can hardly blame him there." Sirius said with a teasing smile. "You'd never believe the teacher."

The two best friends fell back into their old roles quickly. To know that his son was alive gave James something to fight for, something to keep himself grounded with. The result was nothing short of a miracle.

"Who?" James asked. If Sirius had said that, then obviously the old professor was long gone, good thing too, she was a real crabby old woman.

Sirius looked side to side, as if there were someone else around who wanted the information. He leaned into James and then whispered. "Dear Snivellus."

Dumbstruck with horror, James merely stared for almost a minute. "That little greasy haired git teaches my son!?"

"That he does, Prongs." Sirius nodded somberly, "But enough about him. I daresay you'd rather hear about Harry?" Without waiting for a nod, he continued. "Well, he looks like a six year younger version of you. It's almost spooky, Prongs."

Smiling, James forgot his horror of Snape and focused solely on his son again. "And his eyes? Still Lily's?"

"Of course, there's no more brilliant a green than his eyes." Sirius answered, not mentioning how they went to a dull olive when he relived the end of his school year. "He's a bit shorter than you were, ears a bit smaller, but other than that...well, he's you."

"Where is he?" James pressed, eager to meet his son.

A better question that as to where he lived, Sirius silently thought to himself. This was an easy question. "He's..."

Remus strode through the door and cut him off with perfect timing. "Here."

* * *

_I hope you liked the chapter, as it's what you've all been waiting for. Please tell me what you think of the chapter, also take your guesses as to how Harry is going to react to his father._

_I'm pretty sure that the next chapter is going to be Sirius telling Harry the truth. So, look forward to that._

**_Stars Enchantress _**


	11. Father of Mine

**The Return of the Father: **Father of Mine

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_Thanks for all of the amazing reviews for the last chapter! It's been a long day here at my house. I'm actually painting my room. And I dumped the paint. Yes, I know you're all laughing your asses off, but I wasn't. My hands, pants, feet and shirt were covered completely. I was a few green spots away from being Barney (I'm painting my room a dark purple.)_

_Also, to everyone that told me that I put "albeit" instead of "a bit", I meant to. Albeit is a word that means although. The sentence was something along the lines of "Ron came out of the fireplace, albeit a bit more graceful than Harry." Meaning "Ron came out of the fireplace, although a bit more graceful than Harry." Understand? I hope that clears it up for everyone!_

_In response to everyone wanting things to move a bit quicker, you're absolutely right. I have a tendency to get really into detail, so do expect that within the next few chapters, things will get going. _

---------------------------------Hospital Wing

"_Where is he?" James pressed, eager to meet his son. _

_A better question that as to where he lived, Sirius silently thought to himself. This was an easy question. "He's..." _

_Remus strode through the door and cut him off with perfect timing. "Here."_

Both men turned to look at him, both surprised and excited. "It appears that Harry's been getting an odd feeling since James apparated at the Weasley's. In his words its like something's different, but not. It's like its here again." Remus said with a meaningful smile towards James.

Sirius looked a little skeptic. "Molly actually let him come? I was under the impression we weren't telling Harry until I could. Which was after I told James." He asked. James drank in all the information.

Sheepishly, Remus smiled a bit, "Well, Molly doesn't actually know. It appears Ginny Weasley just _happened _to be overcome with a need for mother daughter bonding."

"So what, he flew here?" Sirius turned to James. "Harry's amazing on a broom, better than you. I've wasn't even aware that a human could do a dive like he does."

James beamed with pride that his son could fly so well. He didn't even mind that someone had outshone him in the flying department. A feat that he had once thought to be impossible.

"No, he and Ron came by floo." Remus explained. "He's waiting for you in my quarters." He added as an undertone. "I told him you'd tell him what was going on."

Rolling his eyes, Sirius answered, "Gee thanks, Moony. I've just had to tell James, and now you're sending me out to tell Harry. My work is never finished." He said dramatically. But both men knew him well enough to know that he was not complaining, but would rather do it himself than allow anyone else to tell his godson.

Turning to James, Sirius started talking, "I've got to go talk to Harry. We keep him waiting and he'll take matters into his own hands."

He strode up to Remus, who was watching them. Whispering so James wouldn't hear, he warned, "I've only told him about Harry being alive. No Dursley's, no Azkaban. Leave it like that, all right?"

Nodding, Remus watched as Sirius strode out the door.

---------------------------------Remus's Room

Harry was about to take Dumbledore's lead and start pacing. Ron sat in the corner, watching his best friend carefully. "Calm down Harry, Sirius'll be here in a bit."

"I can't calm down." He muttered, ignoring Ron's suggestion. Something was going on, and he was so close to finding out what it was. How could he just calm down? This was huge, he could feel it. "What's taking so long?"

"Remus only left a minute ago. The man can't fly." Ron answered, for once in his life being the voice of reason. He knew that calming words were not what Harry wanted or needed right now.

When Ron had a point, he had one. As rare as those times could be, this was one of them. Harry said nothing and kept pacing. But Ron was still talking. "When he gets here, do you want me to stay or go?"

Snapping his head back to look at Ron, he could see that his friend was serious. "I don't know."

"I'll go." Ron said firmly. "I'll wait in the Gryffindor common room, I'm sure I can get the Fat Lady to let me in. We'll meet back there whenever."

Nodding gratefully, Harry said nothing. He didn't really need to. He simply went back to pacing, nerves still on edge. Ron said nothing, but kept an eye on the door. Within a few moments, Sirius appeared in dog form. With a pop, Harry's godfather appeared.

With a nod in Harry's direction and then in Sirius's, Ron made his way out of the door. He would have to be careful to stay away from teachers and ghosts.

"So I hear you broke out of the Weasley's?" Sirius drawled, sitting down in an armchair by the fire. Harry followed the suit and sat down opposite him.

Seriously as he could manage, Harry moved to explain. "Something's going on, Sirius. I want to know what."

"I know you do." Sirius assured. "I want you to know too. The only reason we..._I_ waited was so that I could tell someone else before you. It was important that he knew first."

This wasn't exactly what Harry had wanted to know. Who was it that had to find this life-changing event out before him? And why did it take three days to do tell the person? The facts weren't adding up. But one fact that was still true was that he wanted to know.

"Sirius, who needs to know this before me?" Harry asked, confused and fighting hard to keep his annoyance at bay.

A deep breath hardly did anything to calm his nerves. But as he found with James, once you got that initial fact out of the way, it got easier. "James. James Potter. Your father, Harry. He's come back to life."

That was it, Azkaban had addled Sirius. It had just taken some time to find out. "You're crazy."

"Maybe so, but I'm telling the truth. You know I wouldn't come to you with this unless I was sure." Sirius told him. He knew that Harry wouldn't believe it at first, James hadn't either. But he was desperately hoping that Harry would believe him eventually.

Harry stopped to consider this. Sirius wouldn't say something like that unless he was absolutely sure. That was for sure. This wasn't a prank, Sirius wasn't that cruel. But people didn't come back from the dead. That was also for certain. This was too good to be true. People died because of him, they didn't come back to life. "I don't believe you, you're lying Sirius."

"I wouldn't lie to you. Maybe to someone else, but never you Harry." Sirius answered quietly. It shouldn't have been like this. Had he raised Harry himself, his godson would have believed him instantaneously. But Harry had grown up in a lifetime of loss, and this was more than he could handle. "You know I wouldn't, Harry."

"I know you wouldn't. But this is not true, Sirius." He took a deep breath. "He's gone, we know that better than anyone else." Whoever it was that had made Sirius believe this had to be stopped. He didn't want anyone to wreck his father's name like that.

Sirius more than anything wanted Harry to believe this. It would be amazing for the boy, who didn't know love for a decade, to have his father there by his side. Especially now that things would be so hard for him. "Harry, I know you're afraid to believe this. But think about it. You know I'd test anyone who was trying to impersonate James."

"So he can change into Prongs?" Harry asked, voice entirely expressionless. He couldn't let hope seep into his voice. He couldn't allow himself to be sucked in like Sirius clearly had.

Sighing, Sirius answered truthfully. "I haven't asked."

"Then you don't know for sure." Harry surmised, leaning back into his chair. He watched Sirius drag a tired hand down his face. Harry felt bad for him, this was obviously going to hurt him when the truth came out.

Sirius took a moment to look over Harry. The bright green eyes were guarded, something that he hadn't seen since that night in the shrieking shack. His whole body was tense, not to mention a little thin. Not painfully so, but certainly less than a healthy weight. It shouldn't have gone this way. "I know you're afraid to believe this, Harry. I know you don't want to trust what I'm telling you, because if I'm wrong, if he isn't here, I know that will crush you."

"Sirius..." Harry started.

Holding a hand up, Sirius stopped him. "No, Harry. Let me finish, okay?" He asked, waiting for the nod. Harry obliged, though Sirius could see that there was no break in the hard exterior that his godson had put up.

"Don't tell me that you don't wish I was telling the truth. I know you do. I know you wish you could remember him, that he was still here." Sirius needlessly stated. Harry couldn't dispute this, and Sirius knew it. "And you know that I want him here too. I won't lie Harry, I have wished that he was still alive."

"But this isn't some imposter that I'm buying into because I want James back." Sirius added, voice growing stronger. Harry still said nothing, allowing Sirius to say his piece. "He knows things, things that are so uniquely James that it can't be a lie. I can see it in his eyes. These aren't things that Peter can just teach some deatheater. It's the way he talks and moves. You can't duplicate that, Harry, just like an animagus form. The way someone is – polyjuice or no – is entirely up to them. I know James, I know how he was – how he _is _– no one can fool me."

Harry's resolve wavered, Sirius's impassioned speech was breaking into him. But he wouldn't admit it. He didn't need to, Sirius knew his eyes. "But you know what the clincher is Harry? If I hadn't already been sure, do you know what would have gotten me?" he asked, not waiting for an answer and not really expecting one.

"It's the way he talks about you."

Closing his eyes, Harry tried to stop the wave of emotions from falling down around him. Sirius sounded so sure, so convincing. It was like a lullaby that he couldn't help but be soothed by. But if he trusted it, if he fell asleep...would there only be a nightmare?

Sirius paid Harry's distress no mind. He continued on, knowing full and well his godson was believing his words. "He thought you were dead, Harry." He started again, seeing Harry snap open his eyes. "James was convinced that you, me, Remus, Lily...all of us were dead. He thought it was his fault. That he had failed you. You especially, Harry. James used to swear to you every single night that he would protect you. That, with him around, nothing could ever hurt you. Just because he wouldn't let it." Sirius's voice dropped down to a whisper. "And I could tell in his voice while he was telling you how sorry he was, that all he wanted to do was die for having failed you like that."

The firelight of the room played on Harry's face, making it more horror struck and pale than it really was. Or maybe it wasn't the fire. Sirius couldn't tell. But the expression Harry wore was still there. He looked so much like James had only hours or days before hand. The resemblance was still uncanny. The eyes, while different colors, were so similar in grief and loss that Sirius felt his own start to mist over. Both of them, both Harry and James, had grown up far too quickly. James through wars and battles in which he had to kill the people that while he hated, he'd never really wanted to harm. And Harry through a decade of hatred and hurtful words, and through four years of hard endings in which he always saved the day.

But now they had the chance. Both of them could heal, even if just a little, by having the one person there who meant the world to them. There were years, thirteen of them, which they had both been cheated out of. But they could make up for that. They could start over. Sirius would help them do that.

But before that could happen, Harry had to believe.

"I told him the truth, not even an hour ago. He knows now that you're here, that you're alive. He knows what happened that night, the part that he wasn't there for. I told him that you're almost fifteen, and that you're wicked on a broom. That's all he knows Harry. Those are things that everyone in this world knows. A man who loves you more than anything on this earth, your father, just found out facts that you could have asked a random person on a street in Diagon Alley. There are five year olds that know that, Harry." Sirius whispered. Harry had long since leaned forward just to hear the soft spoke words. He could see in the younger boys eyes that his heart had melted. He could see, that without going on any further, that Harry would believe him.

And Harry did believe him. His heart clenched with each painful and hopeful sentence that his godfather spoke. He wasn't sure if he could be more happy, sad and afraid all at once.

"His eyes, Harry, when I told him that – they were exactly like yours are now. So hopeful and so happy. He didn't care about anything else but the things that I was telling him about you." Sirius smiled. The image of his best friend hanging on his every word flashed in front of his eyes. But he pushed it away, he could dwell later. Now he had a different job to do.

He leaned forward and brushed a tear gently from Harry's eyes. The boy looked startled. He hadn't even realized that he had been crying. But there were still tears flowing out of his green eyes and down his cheeks.

Harry didn't know how to stop them either. What Sirius said was something that he'd been waiting for. Undeniable proof that his parents had loved him. He had always known they had. But a part of him hadn't really let himself believe it. If he didn't have the power to kill Voldemort, then they would have never died. It was a thought that was always in the back of his mind, taunting him. But now, it seemed that the thought no longer had a free reign over his mind.

His father was there, he was alive. He believed Sirius now, he had to. And Sirius could see it too.

The tears started falling from Sirius's eyes. They sat together silently, the boy who lived and a convicted – _innocent_ – murderer. Neither moved nor spoke again. They just sat there, wondering about what tomorrow would bring. But neither one could stop the tears.

* * *

_Hmmm...was that a sappy ending? Did I overdo this? Please, guys, let me know. I really hope I didn't.** Please let me know. **Truth be told, this is one of those rare times when I'm actually pleased with the chapter. _

_Okay, if I've sent anyone to tears this chapter, then I sincerely apologize for the next chapter. Yes, Harry and James meet._

_Excited? _

_I need to warn you all though, you've caught up with me for pre-written chapters. I'm currently writing chapter twelve (Harry and James meet), but it's taking a while. So, don't go expecting those nice every other day updates that you've been getting. I don't know how long it will take. I'll try to go as fast as possible, but school is ever present sadly. Also, to all of the Harry Potter and the New Start fans, same goes for you. That chapter is also in the works. Sorry for the long note this time!_

**_Stars Enchantress_**


	12. A Father and His Son

**The Return of the Father: **A Father and His Son

* * *

* * *

_Man, could my chapter titles be getting any sappier? I'll have to work on that for next chapter. I'm actually in the last stage of painting my room getting all the crap back into it (I'm paying to do this myself, and I ran out of money last weekend, so it continues to this weekend...I'm ready to shoot myself). So technically I'm being a bad girl and alternating between writing, cleaning and painting. Shh, don't tell on me, okay?_

_This chapter takes place the day after the last one, but you'll figure that out within a minute. All flashbacks (there's really only one) are going to be italic._

_**Thank you so much to all of the reviewers!**_

_-------------------------------------_Gryffindor Tower

Harry squinted his eyes to block out the bright yellow that was playing against his eyelids. It was barely morning, and only the earliest of the sun's rays were shining. Chances were that no one was even awake yet.

Blearily opening his eyes, cursing the sunlight all the same, Harry steeled himself for the orange of Ron's room. "What the..." he mumbled, there was no orange, only dark curtains. He looked around frantically, as this did not even match Privet Drive. It only took him a few seconds to realize he was in Hogwarts.

His heartbeat settled down considerably. He could almost slap himself for not realizing where he was sooner, as Hogwarts was practically his home. Harry sat up in bed, reaching for his glasses.

As the room came into focus, so did the memories. It flooded back to him in one bang, crashing into him so hard that the breath was knocked out of him.

His reason for going to Hogwarts, how he'd gotten there - but more importantly, what had taken place after he'd gotten there flew into his mind. The talk with Sirius was almost painfully fresh. The words and the emotions were all so new and so real that Harry didn't know what to do with it all.

His father was alive.

Closing his eyes, Harry felt all his strength slip away from him as he fell back against the pillows. How could this be real? How could he go from being an orphan to having a father – a real parent – all in one moment in time? The world that Harry lived in no longer made sense. Facts that he'd lived his life based on were no longer true and he didn't know how to assimilate the new ones into his mind.

His whole life was changed with only a few words from his beloved godfather's mouth.

But what were those changes? Would he live with James or go back to Privet Drive? What would happen come time for Hogwarts? The questions swirled around him leaving him almost breathless and dizzy.

What if James needed time to get back into the swing of his life? That wouldn't mean keeping around a teenager, who by all rights he did not know. His life was an unknown factor for his own father. What would he say to some of the details? Would Harry even tell him?

The one thought stopped the rest. Could he accept this? Could he accept that he now had a father, one who perhaps wanted to know him? The concept was foreign. His mind had an easier time accepting magic than it did this.

He had to know James's – his father's – intentions towards the situations. He could not go in there wanting a relationship and forcing his father into it when James did not want one. And he could not write the man off before he even met him.

Mind made up, Harry threw back the covers, adrenaline fueling his tired body. He hardly realized how tired he actually was, both physically and emotionally. He dressed quickly, barely taking the time to wonder how he'd gone from Remus's room fully dressed to the Gryffindor tower in his pajamas. He sent a glance Ron's way, or at least to where the hangings had been pulled shut. It was still early, Ron wouldn't be up for a while. No one was there to stop him.

He blindly charged down the stairs and through the empty common room. Slowing down didn't matter, he had someplace to be. For the first time in his life, Harry was going to meet his father.

---------------------------------The Hospital Wing

James stared at the ceiling, though not really seeing it. He was currently trying to envision what his son looked like. Even though Sirius had told him that Harry looked almost exactly like James, it was still hard.

Remus hadn't stayed long, just long enough to tell him again that he was glad that James was back. Though this time he'd paused at the door, saying only "It'll all turn out in the end, James, just remember that."

Somehow, he didn't think that Remus was just talking about Harry.

There were other aspects – other secrets – floating around his friends that they would not tell him. What had happened to Sirius, Voldemort, or Peter? And most importantly, almost all of his son's life.

He supposed that they wanted to let Harry get into the details of his own life, but that didn't make him any less suspicious. Sirius had been too tight-lipped. And as much as James enjoyed all of the information he had gathered of his son, there was so much more that Sirius had left out.

It wasn't just what they had left out, but the way that they had said the information that they did give out. The way that Sirius had told him that Harry was brave. Somehow, it didn't seem that Harry was merely brave on the quidditch fields or something. Sirius had said it as though Harry had shown bravery far beyond what anyone else was capable of, adult or no. All good and well, but when had his son shown such amazing bravery?

Things like that didn't add up in his mind. There was so much more that he was missing. Well, actually, that was obvious considering he'd been gone for over a decade.

What James didn't go over in his mind was the Halloween night which was so recent to him, but so far away to others. He didn't want to think of it quite yet. What he wanted to do was see his son. But it was only six in the morning. And no matter how brave or amazing a flyer his son was, there was a very small chance that he was an abnormal teenager who liked to get up early. The only chance he had of a meeting anytime before breakfast was if Harry snapped awake sometime soon.

Though, he was dressed and ready either way.

Sirius had dropped in again after Remus had left. The moment that James saw the familiar stride, he'd tense up and felt his heart start to beat wildly. He craned his neck to see if a boy was trailing behind Sirius. But Sirius had quickly squashed such hopes.

------------------------------------

"_Where is he?" James asked anxiously, "Did he not want to come in?" _

_Smiling at the eager expression on James's face – one that was tinged in fear over his last question – Sirius decided to take pity on the father. "Finding out you're not an orphan is an emotional talk, James. Especially when you fight your godfather on it for the first ten minutes." He added slightly bitterly. Cheering up suddenly, he continued. "He's passed out up in the Gryffindor dorms." _

"_Passed out?" he asked hesitantly. He knew what Sirius was talking about, but that didn't do anything to stop his fears from running rampant in his mind. _

"_Asleep." Sirius clarified as he sat down next to the bed. "He was pretty wiped." _

_Nodding, James calmed that fear, only to have a new one replaced it. Would he always worry this much about his son? Somehow, James had a resounding 'yes' running in his mind. "Should he be alone? I mean, you should go up there and wait, right? Just incase he needs to talk to someone." _

_Sirius couldn't help but laugh at the suggestion. James was diving right into parenting. "Ron's up there too." _

"_Ron?" James asked, puzzled. The name had been said before, but he was still hazy on all of the non-Harry parts of conversations. _

_Moving to explain, Sirius answered, "His best friend. Remember, Remus and I said that you'd apparated to Ron's house? You met his mum, that nice lady you screamed at. Actually, you woke them up when you blew out the windows."_

_Sheepishly, James responded, "I didn't mean to do that." Before Sirius could make a sarcastic comment to match the look on his face, James changed the subject. "So, he and Ron are close." _

"_Absolutely." He grinned, "They've been likened to a different pair of friends to pass through these hallways." _

_Seeing the comparison clearly, James smiled. He'd always hoped that Harry would end up with a friend like Sirius. Someone he could count on. It appeared he had. Sirius grinned again, continuing on. "They've even got their very own Remus." _

"_A third? Does he make them study instead of prank?" James asked teasingly. Fond memories of grumbling over Remus's practicality flowed through his mind. Though he had recently made the decision to block out all memories to do with Peter and Lily, for entirely different reasons for the both of them. He was doing it because he needed to focus on Harry. He would deal with the past later. _

_Tilting his head to the side to concede that there were a few differences between the practical ones in both groups, Sirius smiled a bit sheepishly. "Well, he's a she for starters. Hermione, that's her name. And yes, she does make them study. The girl sounds like she's swallowed the textbooks. She's sweet though, I like her. Keeps them in line as much as she can – which isn't actually much. She obviously cares about them both, so she's just as loyal as Remus." _

"_So he's got good friends, right?" James asked, painful memories of Peter dragging to the surface. His betrayal – while a decade old – was still fresh in his mind. A stinging reminder of what the dark arts could do to a solid friendship._

_Sirius saw where James's mind had gone. He answered more quietly than usual. "Yeah, he does." _

"_And he's happy?" _

_The question was asked so quietly that Sirius wasn't sure he heard it. But he had, and he knew how much the answer meant to James. He pushed aside the memories of Harry's nightmares and the stares of the year before. "He's happy, Prongs. Really happy." He said. _

_But the way he said it suggested so much more. _

_---------------------------------------_

James realized what Sirius had been trying to say. The words and his voice were saying that Harry wasn't just happy in general. But also, happy about his father's return from the dead.

He sighed, Merlin he hoped Harry was happy to have his father back. He was terrified that Harry had been living parent-free so long that getting a father didn't sound like such an appealing idea. And the worst part was that if Harry did decide that, James couldn't blame him for it.

There were so many things he wanted to say to his son, so many things that Harry had to hear. But at the same time there was a lot that James wanted to hear from Harry. They had a lot to catch up on. But he was more than thankful for the chance to do so.

He was terrified that this would upset Harry. And there really wasn't anything he could do to calm those fears, only Harry could do that.

The door to the hospital wing opened and James moved to greet Sirius. But Sirius was not standing there, nor was Padfoot. Instead, there was a boy. A boy who looked surprisingly familiar.

James leapt out of the bed. His heart was telling him to go to the boy, but his feet were firmly planted. Sadly, this did nothing for his mouth. "Harry?" he asked quietly, but the already quiet hospital wing made his whisper seem like a shout.

The boy had his back turned to James, and he stopped dead in his tracks. He, like James, was slammed with the meeting before either had thought up what to do. But there were no take backs, and no time-turners were in sight.

Harry – or at least whom James _thought_ was Harry – did not turn around, and did not say a word. James felt his heartbeat quicken, this was Harry. He didn't need the boy's confirmation to know what his heart was screaming. He tentatively moved forward, towards the teenager in front of him. Harry slowly turned, looking at him as though he were some type of monster. His steps grew more sure the closer he got. With a shaking hand he reached out for Harry.

Though he did not know it, Harry was to having the same feeling. But his mind was again trying not to believe it. Shock had taken the teenager over and he did the only thing he could think of to get away from the situation.

He lashed out.

"Don't touch me!" He yelled. Harry reeled back, false anger in his eyes. His voice was harsh, harsher than he knew he had in him. But Harry did not regret the words, this is what needed to happen. James could not die again because of him. But it didn't matter, because this was not his father. He would not get close to this man. All of the reason's he'd had for coming down to the hospital wing vanished with Harry's fear of being rejected. Of losing someone he loved again. The situation was happening too fast, and Harry was not prepared to deal with it.

James drew back, as if stung. Harry looked at him angrily, green eyes dangerously shining. Lily's eyes. Images of her flashed in James's mind. Seeing her eyes flash that way as she blamed him for her death. Pushing the images aside, James focused solely on his son, his baby.

Both of them took only seconds to scan each other.

Harry could see why everyone had always said to him that he was truly his father's son. If looks were a way to determine how people were, then he and James would almost be exactly similar. Their eyes were the only real indicators of differences. Though, James did look slightly older, he realized with a jolt. But not as old as he should be. His father was still in his early twenties, whereas his best friends were in their early thirties and his son was all of six years younger. He could see the desperation in James's eyes. As though he needed to make Harry understand something. There was a love that underlain them, something so intense that Harry had never seen before in his life.

And James also understood why Sirius said that Harry was almost exactly like him in looks. With the exception of their eyes, and that Harry was only slightly shorter than he was. Harry looked angry, though James could see that it was a more hysteric anger than a hateful one. Harry was running on shock, which James could understand.

"I'm sorry, I won't touch you, okay? It's all right." James said, as soothingly as he could manage. James could barely believe that he'd gone from lashing out at Sirius like this only a short time beforehand to now trying to calm a son who was doing the same thing. But at the moment his feelings did not matter, Harry's did. He held his hands up to show that he had no intentions of touching Harry, and he took a step back – no matter how painful that little step was.

Harry narrowed his eyes and he also took a step back from James. He was unsure how to respond to that, it was as though James was talking to a wild animal. "Stay away from me."

"I will, I'll stay right here." James promised Harry. He watched how tense his son was and wished he could calm the young boy. But that wouldn't work, he didn't know how to calm him. He didn't even know him. But he could try.

Staggering back, Harry looked shocked that what Sirius had said was true. Shaking his head, he tried to dispute that. This was not James Potter. But his heart told him differently. There was something there, some connection that he couldn't deny. James felt it too. But Harry would not acknowledge it. "You're not my father." He whispered aloud.

The words were delivered with the harsh voice that the others had. Though they hurt all the same. James could see, however, that Harry didn't truly mean it. "I am." He said back firmly.

Neither moved for a moment. If Madame Pomfrey was around then she didn't make herself known. No one went in or out of the hospital wing. It was barely light inside.

"Harry, I know you're shocked – maybe scared." James started, trying again to reassure his son.

But Harry drew back even more. Clenching his teeth, he practically screamed. "No! You don't' know if I'm shocked or not. You don't know me at all! I might as well be a stranger!"

Closing his eyes, James knew that his son was telling the truth. He tried to keep his voice level, not to let Harry know just how afraid he was too. "I don't know you, you're right. But I want to."

"Well I don't care what you want." Harry stated sarcastically. "What I do want is for you to stop pretending to be James Potter. Go tell Voldemort it didn't work. I'm not biting."

So his son said Voldemort's name. James did not flinch like many did. "I don't work for Voldemort, Harry. I never have and I never will. And I am not pretending to be anyone but myself. I am James Potter, and I am your father."

"_My father's dead." _

James heard the sad voice, the broken sound that Harry had to it. But he could also hear the desperation that came from trying to make yourself believe something was false when you already knew that it was true. "You don't believe that. You know who I am."

"No, I don't. Why don't you tell me who you really are?" Harry challenged. He refused to back down, refused to allow himself to call this man his father.

"I'm the man that loves you more than anything or anyone. I'm the man that took care of you when you were sick at six months. I'm the person who fed you and bathed you and got you dressed each morning and each night." James whispered, he didn't bother to hold back the tears anymore. They streamed freely from his hazel pain filled eyes.

Harry said nothing and did not stop James.

"I'm the man that swore to protect you, but failed in the end. I'm the guy that practically begged you to speak months before you were even going to. I was the one that you walked to from the other side of the room the first time you learned to walk." James continued. "And I am the one that died trying to save you. I'm also the one that would do it all over again. I **am** your father, Harry."

Shaking his head from side to side, Harry refused to believe James's words. He ignored the stinging in his eyes, that familiar burn that told him that he was about to cry. He wouldn't let this man see him cry, or know how deeply affected those words had made him. "Shut up. Be quiet!" he yelled.

"NO! I won't be quiet. Not until you believe me." James yelled back. "I know you're scared, I know you don't want to lose another person you love. I understand that Harry, I do. But I'm right here!"

Harry rushed forward and shoved James back. "You're not! My father died. He died because of me!"

"Not because of you, for you!" James answered, horrified that his son thought that his parent's deaths were his own fault. He looked up at Harry, who was breathing hard. "You were just a baby, it couldn't have been because of you."

"If I hadn't of been there, if I wasn't the boy who lived, then you would have been fine! He wanted me!" Harry said, his voice falling back into a brokenness that cut at James's heart.

James felt the tears fall down even harder. He pulled himself off of the floor. "And I wouldn't let him have you. Neither would your mother." He stated with such conviction that Harry had no argument.

"He'll only kill you again." Harry whispered, voicing the fear that had been present since he'd seen James in the hospital wing. The people he loved, the ones around him, where falling faster than Harry knew what to do about it. Voldemort was back, the threat was the same as before.

The whisper made everything click in James's mind. Harry wasn't so much determined to keep himself from _having_ a parent, but determined to keep himself from _losing_ one. If he didn't get close, if he stayed away, constantly being cold towards his father, then Voldemort wouldn't go through James to get to Harry. And even if he did, it wouldn't hurt as much if he wasn't attached.

James couldn't let his son live his life that way. "Harry, what happens - happens. But I'm here now. And I'm not going to leave you again." He quietly answered. He took a step towards Harry, and the boy remained locked in his spot. Harry's eyes were downcast, staring intently on the floor.

"Yes, you will." Harry answered. He couldn't believe otherwise. Everyone he loved had to leave him at some point. There was no constant figure in his life. His godfather was torn away from him the same night as his parents, and was kept away from him after that. Remus wasn't in his life for twelve years. Dumbledore for a decade. Not even Ron or Hermione were a constant. "Everyone does."

The pain in Harry's voice was only making it worse for James. He wanted to comfort his son, but that would remain not allowed for as long as Harry refused to be touched. "You need to trust me, Harry. I know I said that I wouldn't let anything happen to you, and obviously I was wrong. But I'm going to try again, even if I need to take my invisibility cloak and follow you around all day." He added, smiling slightly and hoping Harry would follow his lead. He wished he knew what Harry looked like while he smiled.

"I'll give it back to you, it's yours after all." Harry answered, still unable to look at James. The older man had noticed immediately that Harry had quit denying that he was James.

But Harry's last statement didn't make sense. "What will you give back to me?"

"Your cloak." Harry said simply. They both needed the break from the harder parts of the conversation. This was a breather, a chance to gather their bearings. But Harry was unaware, his exhaustion – both mental and physical – had caught up with him. James could sense it and allowed the boy to lead the conversation.

He had given it to Dumbledore for safekeeping, it was possible that Harry had it now. "If you've been using it then keep it, it's yours."

Venom returning to his voice, Harry geared himself up for another attempt to get away. "I don't want anything of yours."

"Well, too bad. You've got it, anything you want that I can give you." James said, booking no room for an argument. "And onto of that, you've got me."

Harry said nothing, he just stared at his father. He was trembling, that anyone could see. And James could see that he didn't really have the strength to fight him anymore. "Listen to me, Harry. I'm here, and I'm sorry I haven't been here before this. I can't stand the fact that I wasn't there for you all you life. I hate that I have to be told by everyone else what you look like and how you act. I want to know all that."

He could see that Harry was debating with himself. Just like Lily, the green eyes were always showing his emotions. Harry was trying to think if getting close to James was worth it.

Harry wanted a father, which he could not deny. He'd spent hours as a child dreaming up ways for his long lost dad to appear and whisk him away from the hell of the Dursleys. But that was before he knew the truth. Before he even knew of the world that he held so dear, the world that he had to save by destiny. This was a fact that he would be a liar to deny. But now that what he'd wanted since he could remember was sitting right in front of him, could he risk it?

Somehow, he understood that the risk was not in allowing James to love him. Harry could see it in his eyes, James would be the father he'd never had or even dreamed of. He could clearly see how much the man in front of him loved him. It was painfully obviously that James wanted to hold him, and Harry could almost feel it.

There was also no risk in trusting James either. He could see his father was painfully loyal and wouldn't dream of casting him aside or treating him as the Dursleys did all those years.

The risk, however, was in putting him in danger. He didn't want his father to die because of him. Not again. The thoughts flew in his mind at an alarming rate, and James could practically understand it all.

He could see where Harry's mind had gone and moved to calm those fears. "Harry," he started gently, "-I've always been a target for Voldemort. Because of my family before me, we've always been on the light side. And then when Sirius and I became aurors it only made it worse. We were always on his hit list. I always will be."

Harry shook his head, but he was unsure as to what he was refuting. His mind was almost dizzy and his thoughts were practically feverish in manner. He was tired, and he was more scared than he knew he could be. "I don't know what I'd do if you died because of me."

James took a step forward, now only four feet separated the two. "You'd go on and deal with that crazy mutt godfather of yours." He teased, "Harry, you'd be fine. And you'd remember that it was not your fault." He concluded, gravely serious despite his previous joke.

Staring at James, Harry knew he couldn't fight what he so desperately wanted. He moved forward with his hand outstretched. James didn't move, allowing his son to come to him at the pace he wanted.

Once his hand reached James's chest – right over his heart, where as a baby he'd spent quite a bit of time leaning against – he stopped, suddenly afraid that after all this talking that his father wasn't real. He was on autopilot, exhausted from the emotional upheaval he'd been going through since the night before.

Resolutely, he pushed forward. His hand connected with James's dark blue robes and the solid flesh underneath. He was warm to Harry's touch. He was alive.

What little self control Harry had left crumbled and he started freely crying harder than before. It killed James all over again to see his son so upset. He pulled Harry forward the rest of the way and wrapped his arms around him.  
  
"Shh, it's all right now. I'm here. It's going to be okay. We'll be all right together." James tried to reassure Harry. One hand slid up and cradled the back of Harry's head while the other one was wrapped protectively around his back.

Harry said nothing to this but just tightened the hold he had of James's neck and waist. They merely stood there for only minutes, though it felt like a lifetime more. Harry sobbed quietly into his father's robes, wetting them with his hot tears.

"Don't worry, baby. We're together again." James whispered. "I love you so much."

Just hearing that caused Harry to go boneless with relief. They slid to the floor slowly and both kneeled on the cold ground. Neither noticed or really cared. They were too wrapped up in the other's presence.

Harry's tears and sobs subsided to a few tears trickling down his face. His head was against the same spot he had touched on James. The heartbeat he found there, now so strong when before it had been none-existent was calming and Harry couldn't help but feel his eyelids droop.

"Go to sleep Harry. I promise I'll be here when you wake up." James whispered. He didn't care that it was technically early morning.

And Harry did just that.

* * *

_I don't know how pleased I am by this chapter. Actually, it's more the ending than anything else. I realize that I just posted the last one yesterday, and I did say that this might take awhile. But luckily I had most of this done (nine out of the eleven pages) beforehand. _

_Well, it's taken me twelve chapters to get there, but Harry and James have met. Since this is what you've all been waiting for, do tell me what you think. I have to give a thank you to all of the reviewers who tell me distinctly what they do and don't like about the chapter. Whether it be specific lines or just a little bit to let me know which part, I love that you guys do this for me. It's wonderfully helpful and kind of beta-like, which I appreciate. _

_I realize that this story is far from done, but you'll have to forgive me for feeling like I've passed the big hurdle. Now all I have to do is sit tight and wait for an expectable time period to pass before I can post this (as today is Tuesday, I posted 11 on Monday I'm going to go with you're reading this on Wednesday – I truly am sad)._

_Oh, and **Gherkin **(who was too lazy to sign in) - I do hope I got this up in time before you had to go to school. Good luck and see you at holidays for a catch up in reading! _

_Thanks again to every one of the reviewers, you guys are what make me go so damned fast. 400? I am sincerely shocked. _

_Okay, I migh have gotten this up sooner than expected, but I'm not posting again for this until my other story gets an update. Sadly, I've got a bit of a block for that one. So I'm not really sure how long it will take for another update._

_Okay, I'm done, aren't you pleased? I've really got to cut down these authors notes, though I do take pride in the fact that they're not always this long and that I've read far worse. I really need to stop now. _

_**Stars Enchantress**_


	13. Morning

**The Return of the Father: **Morning

* * *

_Hello everyone. Thanks so much to all of the reviewers for the last chapter. Okay, so it took me longer than ten days. Long update period for me, though very short for a lot of authors, remember that, okay? So don't hurl the tomatoes at me just yet. Okay well, hurl a few, as I'm quite disappointed in myself for the delay, but not that many..._

-----------------------------------Remus's Room

Remus was going to kill Sirius - that was all there was to it. Padfoot, who had been sitting on top of him whining, had rudely awaked him early in the morning. And as much as Remus wanted to just float back asleep he knew that Sirius needed someone – no matter how annoying he was being.

Currently, the Azkaban escapee was pacing his room. The pacing was occurring in the exact dimensions of his former cell in Azkaban no less. Sirius looked disheveled, and it was clear that he'd had no sleep since dropping Harry off in the Gryffindor tower.

Remus had tried to get Sirius to talk about what Harry had said to the news of his father being alive, but Sirius was being tightlipped about the whole thing. Knowing Harry Remus could make a few well-placed guesses about his reaction, but this was such a foreign situation that they were all flying blind.

His mind had been slipping for an hour now, as he'd given up trying to coax words out of the seemingly comatose Sirius. He knew that his friend would open up when he was ready, but until that time came he'd be unresponsive and evasive.

So, he let Sirius pace and hoped he'd snap out of it before they went to see James. Remus's heart went out to his friend, who was now much younger than the rest of them. He knew that James had to be crushed over Lily. All his life Remus had hoped for that true love that they'd had. And to know now that one of them was alive without the other – perfectly conceivable when they were teenagers but now so _wrong_ – was making him sick.

But James had Harry. And he, like everyone else, was praying that they would connect like they had when Harry was a baby.

Lily and James had barely been twenty when Harry was born. Most people, the older and wiser people whom James had both annoyed and charmed his whole life, said that they were far too young and that the stress would send them into divorce. And with the reasons that all of those people had, Remus had been worried.

Everyone from Lily's parents, to their friends, former teachers and even Dumbledore had warned them that a baby was hard work. But the newly married couple would just smile and nod, the universal polite gesture one made when ignoring what someone was saying. They must have known how natural they'd be at parenting.

As a mother, Lily was in her element. Remus, Sirius, and James had all seen her maternal side on various occasions. But it with Harry she was gentle and loving without ever losing her patience. She also had a scary mama-bear complex, which could stop a train. She protected Harry and made sure he was safe at all times. Remus closed his eyes as he remembered that it was only James who was back, and Lily and Harry would never be reunited again.

But as amazing as Lily's mothering side was, it was the bond that Harry and James shared that silenced all those skeptics. For a man – who Remus had only just realized was so much more of a boy – who had spent so much time running away from maturity, he'd adapted and stepped up when Harry was born.

He had been worried when they first announced Harry's existence. James was so carefree – they all were even despite the war – that seeing him as a dedicated father was a bit of a stretch.

When they'd gotten the owl that Lily was in the hospital and they'd all be uncles soon, the hand that had written it was shaky. Once they got to the hospital Remus and Sirius, Peter hadn't been present and now Remus knew that he was probably with Voldemort, had been shocked when James had shown them a whole other side. He was terrified of hurting his child or of being a bad father and seemed more adult than they'd ever given him credit for.

For a baby who never cried, it hardly ever took Harry much to convey to James what he wanted or needed. James was completely in tune with his son. A simple look from Harry was all that James needed to crack out a smile and his son knew it. James had taken diaper changing and three am feedings in stride, never complaining. Instead of barreling into dumb situations, he hung back for a mere second to consider how it would affect Harry.

Now, more than a decade later, they were all holding their breath in anticipation. Would the father and son reconnect? Or had too much time gone by?

-----------------------------------Hospital Wing

Unlike the earlier hours when he'd been awake before, the sun was being far more insistent. James couldn't block it out. Though, his son apparently could. Harry groaned a little and pushed his head down between the mattress and James's shoulder. Not that James minded, he was more than willing to make a shady spot for Harry to keep his eyes in.

After his son had fallen asleep James had picked him up and set him on the bed. Now they were both on their sides facing each other. Though, Harry was asleep and James couldn't seem to achieve the same.

All of the feelings he'd kept bottled in during the meeting, well, at least all the feelings he'd managed to tone down, were coming out full force. It was probably better that Harry was sleeping, as James needed to collect his thoughts. There were so many thoughts flying through his mind, all of which centered back on one specific teenager.

His son was alive.

His son looked just like him.

His son had his mother's eyes.

His son was fifteen.

His son was _here_.

How could someone keep themselves from screaming from happiness when their very much alive child was sleeping in their arms? Especially when they'd been separated for so long.

He wanted to know everything. His friends, hobbies, favorite food or class, least favorite things, takes on quidditch, everything. He wanted to know how Sirius had been as a parent. He wanted to hear all about his time spent at Hogwarts. There was so much that he'd missed. Time that he'd never get back, but wanted to hear about. At the very least, he wanted to know.

Harry wiggled about a bit, making James smile. Apparently, Lily and Harry were both fidgety sleepers. Green eyes and restless sleep patterns. How much else did his son and wife share? How much would be passed down to Harry? Besides the looks, did he and James share any characteristics? His mind again drifted, replaying his meeting with Harry for the millionth time.

He'd been shocked at how alike they looked. Sirius had warned him, but the similarities were still so surprising. But it was his eyes that had startled James the most. His eyes were so completely Lily that James had nearly stopped breathing for a second. There was no green brighter than those eyes. And because of them Harry would never be a good poker player, the emotions ran through them so deeply that they were clear to everyone.

At that point there was nothing more than a desire to talk with his son. He didn't care what they said, just that they talked. He prayed that he'd gotten through to Harry the night before, that they wouldn't lose the small amount of progress that they'd made.

"Oh Harry." He whispered, as he kissed the mop of jet-black hair. It was still so hard to believe. His arms unconsciously tightened around Harry.

That was what he tried so hard to tone down the earlier. He probably would have scared Harry silly if he had just grabbed him instantly. James once again wondered if they would need to go slow or if that connect that had been present when Harry was born would still be there.

---------------------------------Gryffindor Tower

Ron groggily opened his eyes, scanning the room for the first time that morning. The dorms, exactly where he'd been last night. Had Harry turned up? Sitting up quickly, Ron dashed across to see that the bed opposite from him had been slept it, but Harry was nowhere in sight. He must have woken up and left already.

But why? And to see who? He could probably meet up with Harry to figure out what was going on. Though, searching all over Hogwarts wasn't sounding appealing.

"The map!" Ron exclaimed as he remember the Marauder's map. Sure enough it was still on Harry's bedside table. It looked like Harry had rushed to get out, so it wasn't hard to believe that something had been left behind.

Picking it up, Ron fumbled around for his wand. "I solemnly swear I am up to no good." He spoke. The map came alive and the ink spread out until there was a clear view of the castle.

Dumbledore was again pacing in his office, steps as fast paced as ever. Dumbledore was a champion pacer, and was also a quick one at that. It was probably how the man seemed so calm all the time, he had lots of time to think things over and get anxious feelings out of his system.

His eyes flashed down to Remus's room, where he'd been the night before. Remus was sitting in the corner and Sirius was pacing. Seemed to be a popular activity for the morning.

The name Potter caught his eye and Ron was slightly worried to see that Harry was in the hospital wing. And right next to a dot labeled James Potter no less...

James Potter.

James Potter was on the map. The map did not lie. Ron closed his eyes then blinked a few times, hoping to wake himself up more. This was clearly a result of having just woken up. Harry's father was dead, and so having him in the Hospital wing was completely useless.

Slowly, Ron reopened his eyes and checked again. Harry and James Potter were still sitting close to each other. Ron's mind was quickly trying to come up with an explanation. But there didn't appear to be any. A decade dead man did not just appear in his old school's infirmary.

Throwing his robes on, Ron rushed out the door. It was time to interrupt Dumbledore's pacing.

* * *

_Forgive me, guys, this was planned to be a very long chapter. I was going to have the POVs and the conversations that followed them all together. But as I said in the HPATNS author's note, school is still a little hectic. I'm not sure when I'll get a good amount of time to sit down and get this all out. And a lot of the time, I have a hard time getting myself to just write little bits and walk away. So, you'll have to settle for a short chapter. _

_Keep in mind, it was either wait up to another week, or get a short chapter now. I hope to get the next chapter up soon. I hope you liked this one._

_Please review! _

**_Stars Enchantress_**


	14. Figuring Your Presence Out

**The Return of the Father: **_Figuring Your Presence Out_

* * *

_Hey guys. Thanks so much to all the reviewers, you guys blow me away. In the effort to make up for the long wait from last chapter, I'm starting this directly after posting the last one. Hopefully it won't take as long._

_Special thanks to **Xandria Nirvana**, who reviewed not ten minutes after I got the last chapter up. How are you people so quick?_

------------------------------------The Burrow

For one of the first times in her life, Hermione Granger could not focus on the book in front of her.

In fact, she'd been curled up in Ginny's room on the same page for over an hour. The sun was gently playing on the floor, aromas from the kitchen had wafted up, breakfast soon to be served. Half of the Burrow's occupants were still asleep, Ginny included. As far as she would have normally been concerned, it was perfect conditions for some early morning reading.

If Harry and Ron were there then they would have been passed out in shock. But Harry and Ron were not in the Burrow, and only she and Ginny knew that. Hermione had mentally winced every time she imagined the reaction from Mrs. Weasley. The woman could be quite scary when she wanted to be.

She had been hoping that her two best friends would return the same night that they left. And that way no one would be any wiser that they'd been gone. With them back she'd know what was going on, and they could figure out how to progress from there. But she had already checked for them in their room three times during the night. Their beds were not recently slept in and the two boys were obviously not in those beds.

This left her with quite the dilemma. Eventually the Weasley's were going to find out, there was nothing she could do to stop it. But she could prolong it. There were many excuses she could come up with.

That was what she would have to do. Once they found out that Ron and Harry were at Hogwarts seeking answers on a topic that the family obviously didn't want them knowing about, they would be brought back whether or not they were ready.

She would give them as much time as she could, but had the sinking feeling it wouldn't be that much.

-------------------------------Hogwarts

Ron rushed down the corridors, no longer caring if he got caught. There were some people that owed some answers. His mind was still trying to wrap itself around the thought that his best friend's father being alive. It was a dizzying thought and one that he'd never prepared himself more. Ron was sure that he would have been better prepared to deal with Voldemort taking over than he was with dead people returning to life.

Once he reached the stone gargoyle, he realized he didn't know the password. "Um...okay, a sweet. Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans? Chocolate Frogs, Acid Pops...oh, um, Fizzing Wizbees." He tried, steadily getting more frustrated. At this point in their Hogwarts school years he, Hermione and Harry should have the password mailed to them. "Pepper Imps? Come on you god damned stone...thing!" Ron yelled impatiently.

This was not met with any form of a reaction. Not that he was expecting any.

"Taffy, Lemon drops? Hagrid's treacle fudge?"

With the mention of Hagrid's homemade mouth cement the stone gargoyle sprang to life and jumped aside. Ron didn't spent time pondering what would possess the Headmaster to use that as his password.

-----------------------------------Hospital Wing

Harry shifted in the warm bed. He felt far more rested than he normally was. Though, he didn't remember having any nightmares. In addition to that rested feelings, Harry Potter felt safe. It wasn't exactly what he'd call a familiar feeling either.

That could have to do with the fact that his father had his arms around him. This time, unlike the first time he woke up that morning, there was no few seconds of distress as he tried to remember where he was and how he'd gotten there. This time he knew it.

He was in Hogwarts' infirmary. He was lying in bed next to his father, who was holding him close and allowing him to burrow in his chest so Harry wouldn't have to face the light just yet.

This was what he had been longing for his whole life. This feeling of love from a parent. A sense of security that only came from knowing that there was one person that was right there next to you to keep you safe and love you not matter what. It was unfamiliar, but not unwelcome.

Not quite ready for James to let him go, Harry kept his wakefulness secret. Instead, his mind wandered to what would happen from there. There were so many questions that needed to be answered. Before he could even get the sleep cleared from his mind though, James spoke.

"Are you going to admit you're awake or do you think we should keep pretending?" James quietly asked, his voice laced with teasing. He made no move to let Harry go thought, not until he got the indication that Harry wanted to be let go.

Smiling lightly at his father's perceptiveness, Harry wondered - would keeping secrets from James be hard? At least he was getting the chance to find out. Moving his head into the sunlight and away from his shadowed haven, Harry looked at James. "I'll admit it. I'm awake."

"Good, I wasn't sure if you just wanted to try to drift off again or not." James answered. He shifted so Harry had a bit more room, but still did not release him. Harry inwardly sighed a bit of relief.

Harry shook his head. "I've already gone back to sleep this morning once, I figure twice is just downright lazy." He teased back a little. He wasn't sure what to say, if there was a topic they should or shouldn't tread on.

James was having the same problem. But he paid it little attention. He and Harry could go over the annoying coldness of the stone floor of the castle in the morning and he would find it as interesting as if Harry were telling him the secret behind Dumbledore's calm smile. "I think you've earned it. But if that's your feeling on the subject, by all means. You came here pretty early before."

"Did I wake you?" Harry asked. He knew that he should be worried that he'd woken his father up and that James would be angry. But somehow, he knew otherwise. It would take a lot more to get James angry at him.

"Nah, you didn't. I hardly got any sleep. I was too busy thinking over that you were alive, and that apparently, I wasn't for over ten years." James answered. He didn't care that he was talking about things that might not be a great starter. Somehow, if they buried things, it would only take longer to get over them.

They were making small talk. And any bit of it was something to be thankful for. But James didn't know what else to say. He didn't know enough to make a real conversation. And he hated it. He should have known his son all along. And now they were strangers. He wanted so much to change that.

That wasn't what Harry had been expecting. But in all likelihood, it was hard to digest such things, he was still having a hard time. He could tell that his father was trying. He was making the effort to talk. But they were still both so new at this. There was so much to process. "What do we do now?"

"I don't know." James answered truthfully. He wracked his brain for anything, a first step, an idea. He wasn't exactly being choosy. Smiling suddenly, James released Harry and sprang out of bed. He ignored the disappointment that came from letting his son go. "Get up, come on!"

Harry blinked at the sudden movement and instantly wished his father was still holding him. But he was interested to see where James was going with this. Obliging, Harry hauled himself up. "What? Why are you grinning like that?"

"Well, what kind of father would I be if I didn't get you breakfast? All of this talking is hard work." He earnestly stated. Harry's smile started growing. "We'd best nick some food from the house elves and start from there."

Nodding, Harry felt this was probably a good plan. "All right, dear father, let's go." He said. He turned to head for the door, and knew that James was right behind him. He could practically feel his father's eyes on him.

"You know the way?" James asked. He hadn't been sure of anything regarding Harry, but sincerely hoped that Sirius had done his job as godfather.

"Of course. Behind the pear painting, tickle it." Harry easily shot back as they quietly progressed down the hallways.

Sending a side-glance at Harry's confident stance, James felt just a bit more of that weight on his shoulders ease off. Harry was easy to talk to, at least for now. Maybe they could do this. Of course they could, they were family. This would be easy.

Of course, James didn't quite believe that.

"Ahh, the many times I went for food from the house elves. Memories..." James nostalgically stated. He let out dramatic sigh.

Harry smiled. This is what he wanted, a father. He could finally respond to all the memories that people relayed to him of his father. He could put in his own memories. Compare differences in parents, give his opinions on his father and the justice of a punishment or something - do all the things that he had longed for. Because he would know.

He didn't care that they weren't really talking about anything in particular. He didn't care that there wasn't a real reason for their walk. They were just talking, just being. There would be so much more later, but for now he was content to let the rest all fall away.

----------------------------------Dumbledore's Office

Without any real form of respect of privacy, Ron quickly opened the door of Dumbledore's office. He didn't care that it wasn't respectful, or that he was being rude. Things were too crazy, too much was going on for any of that.

"Professor..." Ron started, noticing that for the first time, Dumbledore seemed slightly startled. Considering it was summer, he knew that the Headmaster wasn't exactly expecting students to be running into his office without permission.

But Dumbledore hid his surprise quickly. "Hello, Mr. Weasley. I was unaware that you would be joining us for the summer." He asked, slightly amused. Ron inwardly sighed in relief. He hadn't really ever seen the Headmaster angry, and never directed towards him. It was quite a load off his shoulders that, for now, he was safe from that type of anger.

"Is James Potter in the Hospital Wing?" Ron quickly asked. As Hermione pointed out a million times a day, Ron wasn't known for tact of any sort. She would be sending him a disapproving glare if she were there right now. It would pale in comparison to the one he and Harry would get when they returned home. Ron was pretty certain she wasn't expecting them to be gone so long.

Once again, the old Headmaster looked startled. Ron, despite the seriousness of the moment, felt a surge of pride knowing he'd done the impossible twice.

"Ron, I don't know how you..." Dumbledore started, he looked like he was about to sidestep Ron's question. And that just wouldn't do.

"Professor, I have the Marauder's Map. And I know you know what that is." The look on Dumbledore's face proved that he did know exactly what the map was. "I know you know it doesn't lie. And when I looked on it this morning, it said that Harry and James Potter were in the Hospital Wing."

Sharply, Albus halted Ron's explanation. "Harry? You and Harry came here?" He asked, his voice betrayed none of the worry that he was experiencing.

"Yes, sir, we came last night." Ron answered. He realized this was the part where he was supposed to apologize, but he didn't want to. If James Potter was alive, then Harry should have been told straight away. If Dumbledore was keeping it a secret, then he was the one that owed Harry an apology. Not the other way around.

Dumbledore turned around and seemed to fall back into pacing. His face was the epitome of concentration. Ron knew that he was trying to work out what to do next. "Sir, Harry wanted to come. He knew that Remus was here."

"Yes, Remus is here. What did Harry want to ask him?" Dumbledore asked, stopping his movements. His blue eyes bore into Ron's leaving him no choice but the truth. A weaker person would have shrunken under the gaze that Ron was receiving. But Ron did not back down. He, Harry and Hermione had gone through too much to just wither under a hard stare.

Taking a deep breath, Ron started to explain what Harry himself had a hard time articulating. "After that man apparated to the Burrow, Harry's had a strange feeling. Like deja vu that he can't explain or remember. And my family's been far from reassuring. They keep staring at him like he's going to burst or something. They brush off our questions."

Smiling slightly, Albus put the rest together. "So you decided to go to Remus, who Harry could get the answers from more easily. But he would be less likely to go off on something than Sirius."

Nodding, Ron answered, "Yes, Headmaster."

"And what did Remus tell you?" Dumbledore asked. If Ron was running around asking him for answers, chances were that he did not know the full story. But Harry would. If it were up to Remus and Sirius, Harry would have known the moment they saw him.

"He explained why Sirius waited. And then went to go get him. I left so they could talk alone." Ron explained.

Sighing, Albus knew that there would be no point in hiding the truth from Ron. He would find out eventually, and sooner rather than later. "Mr. Potter has returned to life."

Ron calmly walked to the nearest chair before completely collapsing in it.

------------------------------------Remus's Room

"Sirius, you can't pace forever." Remus stated exasperatedly when his friend continued on for another hour. "Why don't you just sit down and stare of into space, why does it need to be a mobile sport?" he asked, only half joking.

But, miraculously, Sirius obeyed and sank down into the offered chair with a deep breath. "Sorry, Remus, I just can't sit still." He stated dejectedly.

"I'd noticed." Remus responded dryly. Sirius cracked a smile at his friend's deadpan retort. Trust Moony to use sarcasm at a tense moment. But it had it's desired effect, Sirius slowly felt the tension fade a bit. It was still there, but a bit more manageable.

Sirius closed his eyes for a moment before opening them again. The silvery blue of his eyes focused on the fire in front of him. For a second, neither of them said anything. They just sat quietly, watching the flames flicker in and out and listening to the crackles of the wood.

Remus broke the silence. He wasn't about to let Sirius drift off into his thoughts again. "How did Harry take the news?"

"How would you take the news if you were him?" Sirius asked with a snort.

Shrugging, Remus didn't really answer that. They both knew how hard news like that would be to digest. Sirius ignored his own question and answered Remus's original one. "He didn't believe me at first."

"That's understandable." Remus nodded, glad that Sirius was finally speaking. He wasn't sure how much longer he could have just let Sirius run his course.

Nodding, Sirius continued. "Yeah, it would be. I still wish he could just believe me right off the bat though. But I understand why he didn't." Sirius sighed heavily and dragged his hand over his face. "But I got him to, eventually."

"Did he want to go see James?" Remus asked slowly. Sirius had said that they went to the Gryffindor tower and nothing more. But had that been Sirius's idea or Harry's?

"He fell asleep before I could really ask." Sirius said with a grin. The grin slowly faded, the more burning thoughts had entered his mind again. "Do you think that they'll get along?"

The werewolf didn't really seem to know how to answer. Remus merely stared at Sirius's face. Sirius's eyes were still focused on the fire ahead of him, and Remus found his eyes sliding towards the flames too.

It would be so hard to tell something like that. And Sirius realized that they might not. It was entirely possible. Harry had been without a father for so long, and James had so much to catch up on. The fact that James wasn't must older than Harry might help or hinder. But no one could be sure of which.

"Lily would know what to do." Sirius said, completely out of the blue. Remus was startled, he hadn't expected the subject change. And not to this one, not so soon. "She always knew stuff like this. Like she had a sixth sense. She'd know exactly what Harry would need. If he wanted them to just move right in with the parenting. Or be his friend, or just be there. She should be here, Remus."

It was Remus's turn to sigh heavily. He had the feeling that they would do that a lot in the coming weeks. There were so many new questions in their minds. And so many that couldn't be answered without time and experience. "I know she should be." He paused. "She's not though."

The words cut at Sirius. Lily had been like a sister. And she was such a good mother. Harry was missing out on having someone like her in his life. As happy as they were that James had returned, it felt so unfair that only one of the two Potters could be there. "I wish she was. Harry and James really need her."

"They'll have to learn otherwise. Well, James will have to. Not Harry." Remus mused. Technically, it was only James who was missing something. Harry was missing out on Lily, but he couldn't remember her well enough to actually miss her.

It was a contradiction. He would be sad he'd missed out on a parent, but happy that he wouldn't have to go through that. It made no sense. But sense wasn't something that was heavily involved with the situation.

"Okay, fine, Harry will be okay with one parent. But will James be okay without Lily?" Sirius questioned aloud. Remus wasn't sure if he wanted an answer or not. But it appeared that Sirius didn't. "He's going to bury it you know."

"Bury what?" Remus asked slowly. His eyes narrowed as he tried to come up with Sirius's meaning.

This time, Sirius took his eyes from the fire. He turned sideways in his chair to face his friend. "Bury his grief for Lily. He'll dedicate all of his time to Harry and not think about all of this. Peter's betrayal, the fact that James did die. Losing Lily. Everything."

"We can't let him do that." Remus declared seriously. "He'll crash eventually. And it will be that much worse."

Sirius understood exactly what Remus meant. To deal with all of that now would hurt. It would be hard. But if he buried it and pretended it was gone, he wouldn't be hurt. He'd breakdown. "We won't let him." He vowed similarly to Remus.

With that between them, they both let the conversation trickle off. But Remus knew that there was another issue to be dealt with. "Sirius, you have to tell him."

"Tell him what?" Sirius asked. He was praying that Remus didn't mean what he thought he did.

"That you went to Azkaban."

Sirius's eyes slid shut with the realization that Remus wouldn't let that run it's course. He was going to make Sirius tell James. And from the sound of Remus's voice, and the conviction that laced it, he would be telling James sooner rather than later.

"We need to give him a chance to get used to all of the other things." Sirius reasoned. He had a million of excuses as to why they should wait, but all of them were hollow and implausible. And Sirius knew that.

Remus got up and knelt in front of Sirius. "You don't believe that." Sirius started to speak, to refute Remus's claim, but was cut off. "Okay, you can believe that. But that's not why you want to wait."

There was no use in lying, and Sirius knew that. "Moony, what if he just hasn't thought about it yet?" he asked, his voice almost desperate. Remus could clearly see how much this had been eating away at Sirius.

Though, Sirius firmly believed that eating away was too loose a term. Devouring whole was closer to the truth. The thought that had been plaguing him since that Halloween night had the possibility of being answered. And that age old fear that James blamed him had come closer to the surface than it had in all the years that had come since then.

"What if he just remembers Peter's bit in all of this? He might not even realize that I suggested the rat as the secret keeper." Sirius went on, anxious and nervous. Not two feelings that he had much experience with.

"He seems to remember everything just fine, Padfoot." Remus reminded gently. He patted Sirius's arm, but knew it would do no good. The only person that could make this better for Sirius was James. But he also knew that it would take a lot for Sirius to bring the subject up.

"I know he does. But...god, Moony, I just don't know." He said as he looked up towards the ceiling. Slowly, Sirius looked back down and brought his knee up to rest his head on. He looked tired, proving Remus's thoughts true about lack of sleep through the whole night.

Remus gave Sirius a small smile. "Talk to him, Sirius. It's the only way to find out."

------------------------------------Outside Hogwarts

James looked across the picnic table at Harry. His son was eating quietly, every once in a while looking around him. The table had been a old favorite quiet spot for he and Lily when they were in Hogwarts. Harry had said he didn't even know where it was, so James had taken him to it.

The kitchen had been uneventful. They had talked on the way down about small things. Comparing the house elves, or in a brief moment, McGonagall and what she would say to seeing James again. But once they got to the kitchen all forms of conversation had been ended.

Sirius had told him the story of what Harry did as a baby. And James wasn't naive enough to not realize that Harry would be a bit famous for such a thing. But the way the elves carried on was an eye opener.

They went on and on to Harry about how anything Harry Potter needs he would get. How he was a great wizard and all sorts of things. One house elf, obviously one who knew Harry a bit better, had raced up and knocked Harry clear on his feet in a overzealous hug. Though, it appeared that Harry was used to it from this particular elf.

But when they caught sight of James, well, they went a bit nuts. Half of the elves burst into hysterical happy tears on the spot. James shuddered at the thought that he was going to be getting that a lot in the coming future.

It was time to start talking to his son though, as Harry was now looking at him in concern because of the shudder. "I was just thinking about the house elves." James explained. "They went crazy for us, hu?"

"They always do that. Dobby especially." Harry smiled. He seemed to understand exactly what James was talking about, proving once again that he was used to such reactions. But James could see from the embarrassed smile that had been firmly planted on his face, that Harry was not happy about it.

"Dobby, was that the one that jumped you?" James asked as he bit into the other half of his sandwich. Trust the house elves to overstock a picnic basket, which is exactly what they had done. This was enough for six people, and far too much for just the two of them.

Harry let out a short laugh. And as far as James was concern, it was the most beautiful noise he'd ever heard. "Yeah, Dobby and I are...old friends." He said evasively.

James narrowed his eyes, but decided not to press the subject. He just watched as Harry dug into a bowl of pasta. Harry's eyes were downcast, but James could still see a hint of green. It had to be pretty hard to hide such bright eyes as longs as they were open. Lily's eyes. James felt a clench in his heart. His Lily. She would have loved to watch Harry right now.

He tried so hard to figure out what she would say to him. What way to start a conversation. Knowing Lily's conversation skills, she could find a subtle way to get information about his childhood and life out of a simple question.

Dying to know anything more about Harry, James tried to come up with just that type of question. Asking about his favorite school subjects seemed a bit too impersonal for a father though. He could question about teachers and their changes, finding out about Harry's preferences and what had changed in the school over the time he had been gone at the same time.

He thought back to all that Sirius had said. He had two best friends, Ron and Hermione. Ron's like Sirius and Hermione is like Remus, though female. He loved quidditch. That was it, he could ask about quidditch. Sirius had said that he loved it. And Sirius would know that type of thing.

James's thoughts halted. Sirius. Sirius would have raised Harry. That had to be an interesting question right there. Grinning, James asked, "So, how bad was Sirius as a godfather? I bet you didn't know what the word 'rule' meant till you got to Hogwarts!"

Harry stopped eating instantly. Sirius had been in Azkaban. Didn't his father know that? Would Sirius have said something? With a jolt, Harry realized that Sirius hadn't gotten around to it yet. God, James thought he grew up with Sirius. "Um...he's a good godfather." He said lamely. He didn't know what else to say. It was Sirius's place to talk about that, not his.

Starting to panic, Harry had a wide eyed look that was starting to scare James. What was so awful about his question? "Harry, what's wrong?"

"Nothing!" Harry said quickly and unconvincingly. He didn't want to get into the Dursleys or anything of that. He didn't want his father to feel bad for him for all the time that he had spent in the cupboard. He sure as hell didn't want his father to blame himself for it. "Nothing's wrong." He tried again.

James's eyes narrowed. And innocent question and this was the response? "Harry, what happened with Sirius? Why are you so upset?" he asked. James quickly got up and walked to Harry's side of the picnic table. "Tell me, please?"

"No, just..." Harry started. "– just don't ask me about that, please? Dad, please?" he asked seriously. He knew that his face and eyes betrayed his worry. But he didn't care. He didn't want to have to tell his father that. Not now, not so soon.

Harry looked so upset that James didn't know what to do. Lily would know. Btu he didn't. So he did the only thing he could think of.

"Shh, it's fine. I won't ask again. I swear." James promised. He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Harry.

Accepting the hug, Harry breathed a sigh of relief. But how long would that last? James was bound to ask again. And Harry didn't know what he would do when that time came.

And James was equally as confused. The question from before about what had happened to Sirius rang in his mind again. This time, however, it wasn't going away. Whatever had happened to both Sirius and now Harry it seemed had to be bad. This type of reaction wasn't to something small. The panic in his son's green eyes was real. The hurt and haunted appearance of Sirius was real.

James sighed heavily and tightened his arms around his son. He had to get answers.

And he needed them soon.

* * *

_Dun-dun-dun. Hehe, poor James, Harry and Sirius. That conversations going to be a ball to write! Please, let me know what you think so far. I'm a review junkie, feed my addiction. I'm begging you here._

_**Stars Enchantress**_


	15. Azkaban

**The Return of the Father: **_Azkaban_

* * *

* * *

_Hello everyone! Thank you all for the reviews for the last chapter. I really appreciate all the feedback you guys give._

-----------------------------------The Burrow

Ginny and Hermione shared a panicked glance. Where were Ron and Harry? When they got back they were sure to have two annoyed and angry girls after them. That was, of course, after they got their punishment – and or death sentence - from Mrs. Weasley.

"Where are those boys?" Mrs. Weasley muttered, looking at the ceiling as though it would tell her the answer.

The whole table had started breakfast only a few minutes ago. Every single Weasley was digging in, with the exception of Ginny and Hermione. They stared at their plates as though the food was diseased.

Hermione could practically hear her heart beating wildly in her chest. Ginny appeared to be having the same feelings. They kept glancing at the stairway as if they too expected Harry and Ron to descend.

"That's it, I'm going to go get them!" Mrs. Weasley declared when a few minutes had gone by. No one was allowed to skip meals in her family. Harry least of all. She got up and headed towards the stairs as the twins shared a malicious grin at the prospect of someone besides them getting punished.

Thinking fast, Hermione said the first thing that came to mind. "No! Mrs. Weasley!" And from that point she was stuck.

Ginny looked slightly alarmed at Hermione's outburst, but she too thought fast. Molly did stop, and looked at Hermione with raised eyebrows. "Why?" she asked, sounding very puzzled.

"Um, because. They're still asleep." Hermione said, trying desperately to sound casual. She only half pulled it off. Most people at the table were snowed. With the exception of the twins, who were pranksters and very hard to lie to. They were now looking at Hermione with new interest. But thankfully, they said nothing.

Bill snickered across from her. "Of course they are, they would miss a meal otherwise." He said with a smile while his finger absently played with his fang earring. He was looking at Hermione, so he missed the disapproving look from his mother.

Beside Bill, Charlie laughed too. "Yeah, don't worry though, Hermione. Mum's got a soft spot for Harry, she won't be too mean when she wakes them up." He assured her.

"Charlie, really." Mrs. Weasley admonished. Then, directing the next bit at Hermione, she continued. "They need to wake up now. It's too bad for them if they stayed up to late."

She turned to go, but Hermione had a sudden inspiration. "But Harry had a nightmare!"

Stopping in her tracks, Mrs. Weasley turned around. Everyone at the table stopped to look at Hermione, Ginny included. Most looked concerned, with the exception of Percy. The twins weren't convinced, but kept listening. At the moment, however, they were not the girls' fear.

"Harry woke up last night, another nightmare. This was...Cedric. And it was really bad. So he and Ron were up for a long time talking it out. I think they're both really tired." Hermione said. She wrung her hands with worry, but what kind of worry was indiscernible for the Weasleys.

Molly looked quite beside herself with worry. Harry's nightmares had woken them all up a few times, and they all knew just how bad they could be. Though, Ron always seemed on top of it, which was why they just let he and Harry deal with it together. "Oh, all right. Well, we'll let them sleep a bit."

She sat back down at the table and busied herself with eating. The twins looked at each other, mentally agreeing that they would talk to Hermione later. Bill looked slightly less convinced. "How would you know? I mean, wouldn't you stay up with Harry too?"

Ginny looked up quickly. Saving Hermione she answered her brother. "We got woken up from their voices. We were going to stay but Ron kind of sent us a look, so we took the message and went back to our rooms. From the looks of things, they'd been up a while."

This seemed to satisfy Bill's limited curiosity. Hermione inwardly sighed, she'd avoided that disaster. But seriously doubted she and Ginny could do it again.

-------------------------------------Hogwarts

Padfoot ran down the hallways like a bullet. To most people, if there were any people actually in the hallways, he would merely be a black large smudge in their vision. A fast moving one at that.

He was a hallway away from the Infirmary and sped up at the thought. He had to talk to James, before he lost his nerve. His talk with Remus had given him some courage for the event, but not enough to last him a long wait.

Once he saw the doors to the hospital wing, Sirius transformed back into his human form and opened the door. "James, you up? I have to tell..." he stopped.

James wasn't in the hospital wing. He wasn't in his bed.

"Oh no..." Sirius muttered.

Padfoot once again became a smudge as Sirius raced out of the infirmary.

-------------------------------------Gryffindor Tower

Ron was still slightly dazed, despite the fact that he'd already made it back to the Gryffindor common room. The Fat Lady, who had taken pity on him last night when he hadn't had a password, was now fully informed to expect quite a few Gryffindors to pass through her portrait. Dumbledore had given Ron only the barest essentials of information before sending him on his way.

Which meant, basically, that Ron knew nothing more than that James Potter had come back to life, they didn't know how, Sirius and Remus knew – as did his family, and it was James who apparated to the Burrow.

Of course, Ron wasn't shocked enough not to know that, he did have the presence of mind to realize that with the knowledge of his best friend's father's return, he could have come up with the rest of that himself. Not that Dumbledore would have taken kindly to that argument.

Dumbledore had also just mysteriously smiled when Ron asked if he would be contacting the Burrow to say that he and Harry were in Hogwarts and they did know the truth. He'd merely stated that they'd come eventually.

Which meant, they'd be there whenever Hermione and Ginny had no more ideas to stall his mum.

Ron's head was beginning to swim from all of the reading between the lines he had to do.

The door to the common room flew open and Ron was practically praying it was Harry. Though, he wasn't disappointed to see Sirius. "Sirius? Should you be running around like that?"

The dog in front of him shot him an annoyed look and transformed to a panicked looking Sirius Black. "Has James come here?"

Confused, Ron shook his head, "No, of course not. He and Harry haven't been by all morning. Well, they could have come when I was at the Headmaster's office." He mused, but didn't think that was very likely, considering their recent reunion and all.

"Harry? What do you mean, Harry? He isn't here with you?" Sirius asked, looking around wildly as though Harry was sitting behind him not saying anything. It only took a few looks to prove that this was not the case. How could Harry not be there? Sirius paled when he realized that Harry hadn't waited to go see James.

"He's with.... um.... Mr. Potter? What am I supposed to call him?" Ron asked, wincing a little at his own question. Sirius obviously didn't have the time to contemplate this with him. "I looked on the map this morning to see where Harry was. It showed he and his father in the hospital wing."

Nodding, Sirius realized it was probably a little foolish of him to not realize that Harry would do something like that. He'd waited for years to have his parents back, it was unreasonable to expect him to wait a few hours for his godfather to return.

Maybe they were off having a wonderful talk right now. Connecting and getting to know each other. There were quite a few stories that Harry would have for James that would send his father through a loophole. He could start smaller though, less dangerous. Like that flying car. Sirius sank into the couch with a smile.

His panic slowly evaporated as he thought about all the things that they could be talking about. James could be telling Marauder stories. Harry could be telling all about his quidditch exploits. The father and son had about thirty-five years of stories between them, most of which would be interesting. He could wait to hear all about James's reactions to Snape and Moony's lessons. The look on James's face when Harry got to his third year would be priceless.

A desperate thought broke way from his peaceful musings. Third year. He had escaped from Azkaban in third year. James didn't know about that, he didn't know what had happened after Harry defeated Voldemort.

And Harry didn't know that James had no idea.

"Ron! Where's the map?" He yelled, springing from the couch in an instant. Ron looked surprised at his sudden outburst. Thought a thought he handed the animagus the map.

"Sirius? What's wrong, where are you going?" Ron called after Sirius, who was out of the door in a flash.

--------------------------------Outside Hogwarts

Harry only allowed James to hold him for a second. It felt good, to have a father who cared. But he'd already broken down in front of his father once, he wasn't about to make a habit out of doing so. Pulling back, Harry scooted down the bench a little. Not enough to make it seem like he was trying to put distance there, but just enough to do just that.

"Harry, are you alright?" James asked, concerned. He made a point not to ask why he was upset, as Harry didn't want to be questioned about that. He'd promised not to ask him again. But he'd made no such promise about asking Sirius.

Nodding, Harry took a deep breath. "Yes, I'm fine. I'm sorry."

"You can tell me anything, you know that, right?" James asked. He didn't want anything about Harry to be hidden from him, and he wanted all of it to be told by Harry himself. But first he had to get his son to trust him completely, and he knew that.

Barking from behind them hindered any response from Harry. They both looked up to see a black dog racing towards them. "Padfoot?" James questioned, not loudly enough for Sirius to hear them though. Harry raised his eyebrows at Sirius's impeccable timing. If he was going to interrupt, couldn't he have done so a few minutes earlier?

Transforming, Sirius looked over both Harry and James quickly. Harry looked upset about something, and James looked concerned. And suspicious. They'd already treaded upon the subject. He'd been to late.

Nervously, Sirius laughed. "What are you two talking about? Never though I'd see the day I asked that!"

Standing up, James closed some of the space between he and Sirius. Behind him, Harry closed his eyes. He'd gotten James to promise not to ask him, but nothing about Sirius.

"So, Padfoot. I was sitting here, with my son, trying to think of something to ask that would be clever and get us talking about him. I was thinking quidditch first, since you said he's amazing at it. And you're his godfather, so you'd know. But that got me thinking about you raising him." Sirius looked as though he wanted to run and hide, but James ignored his discomfort. "I asked what kind of godfather you were."

Sirius and Harry exchanged a look. Both of them seemed to be saying "I'm sorry." But they both knew that this was inevitable.

"Do you want to know what happened then, Sirius?" James asked, his voice lowering. He looked back at Harry, whose eyes were locked into Sirius's.

Shaking his head, Sirius answered. "I'd like to take a guess, Mr. Prongs."

There was no smile of recognition for the use of his old nickname this time. James responded back, almost emotionlessly. "Please do, Mr. Padfoot."

"Harry didn't quite know what to say. He looked panicked and a bit afraid." Sirius guessed, tearing his eyes from his godson and putting them back in the harsh gaze of James. "Am I right?"

"Yes, you are." James assured solemnly. "Care to explain why?" But his voice showed that this was no question. He wanted to know what had happened to his son and best friend, and he wouldn't wait any longer.

Sirius stared at James, his silvery blue eyes displaying sadness that James couldn't have ever thought possible in his carefree friend's eyes. James's face softened, and his expression was now one of encouragement. "Just say it, Padfoot. I have to know."

"I didn't raise Harry, James." Sirius almost whispered.

James stared at Sirius, like he had never seen anything quite like him. How was that right? Sirius had promised he and Lily that if anything happened to them, that he would be the one to take care of Harry. James had never doubted that promise. And as much as he wanted to lash out and yell at Sirius for not fulfilling his promise, something held him back. Something in Sirius's eyes said that there was so much more to share.

From behind them, Harry watched the exchange quietly. This was something to go on between them. For now, it wasn't really about him.

"I wanted to, god James, don't ever think I didn't." Sirius started, squeezing his eyes shut. "Something just didn't feel right that night. You know? Harry felt it, and I guess I did too. So I went to Peter's, just to check up on him. But he wasn't there." Sirius explained.

The onslaught of visions in his mind were playing like an old movie. Flashes of Peter's old home raced in front of his eyes. "I'm sure you know that he wasn't there. But there wasn't any sign of a struggle. It was like he'd upped and left. Gone for a walk. But he couldn't have. And I knew that."

"I think I knew it then, or at least part of me did. But I didn't want to believe it." Sirius whispered this part, it wasn't key to the story, not to him anyway. But James could hear it, and he could sense how heartbroken Sirius was. "I hopped back on my bike, you remember that thing, right James?" Sirius asked, the shadow of a smile on his face proving that he'd didn't expect an answer back.

But James answered anyway, nodding with a sad smile. They both had tears in their eyes, but stubbornly refused to let them fall.

Starting again with a deep breath, Sirius continued his part of the tragedy that had taken place. "I didn't believe it when I was flying, and I tried to pretend that it was my eyes playing tricks on me when I saw a greenish tinge in the sky over your house."

"I couldn't pretend anymore when I saw the half demolished..._thing_...where the house had been." Sirius said, spitting out the word thing. "I kind of stood there for a second, shocked. I couldn't hear anything, and all I could see was that house. I stood there for a whole minute, willing you and Lily to come rushing out holding Harry."

James and Harry listened to the story with total interest. Not even Harry or Remus had heard it in its entirety. They'd gotten the condensed version, not this. Sirius paid them no mind, and it was clear that James wasn't what he was looking at. He was now looking at the house, as if it were still there in front of him.

"Finally, I got some of my sense back. I was trying to get myself to believe that you would all be just hurt. Of course, two steps in the door I saw you, James." Sirius said, snapping back to the presence. The tears would hold back no longer and were streaming down both faces. "You were just laying there. You weren't wounded, no cuts or bruises. For a second it looked like you were sleeping. But not even you had master the art of sleeping with your eyes open." Sirius laughed bitterly. "You actually had the balls to look a little surprised. Like when Voldemort had come you could have gotten away."

The bitter laugh caused James to flinch. He hadn't thought that Sirius had seen them. But it appeared that he had.

Sirius's eyes were unfocused again, looking past James. "I closed your eyes for you though, you were still warm." Harry couldn't hold out any longer, he joined them both in crying. And it wasn't even five minutes from when he'd promised to stop breaking down in front of James.

"I only stayed downstairs a minute or two after that. My ears were ringing, but I didn't cry. I think it was too fresh to do that, then at least. I went upstairs, not even noticing that the stairs were looking like they'd collapse any second." Sirius went on. "The first room I went to was the one with door bits in front of it. Lily was laying there, her face down. I...god, I couldn't even look at her. And I didn't notice the pile of black robes in front of her until I left."

Turning to Harry, Sirius looked almost prideful as he continued. "But all my senses seemed to come back to me. I could hear screaming. A baby's screaming. I'll have you know that I thought I'd gone insane. If Lily and James were gone, then how could Harry have survived?" he asked rhetorically. But Harry and James knew the answer. "I found him, his crib had fallen over and Harry was on the other side. The bars had kept anything from falling and hitting him on the head."

"I took him out of there, he looked perfectly fine. Except that he was screaming, which I think was the first time I'd seen him do that. And that cut on his forehead." Sirius said, tracing an imaginary lightning bolt to his own, unmarked, forehead.

"Sirius," James broke in, "Why didn't you just take Harry then?" He whispered.

A hard edge tore into Sirius's voice. "Because I wanted Peter to pay." He spat angrily.

Harry turned away, knowing what came next. James didn't, he had no idea just how low rock bottom could get. "What did you do, Siri?" James whispered. He was almost afraid to ask, the look in Sirius's eyes did not come from wanting revenge. It came from something far worse. It had to.

"First, I gave Harry to Hagrid. He'd shown up on Dumbledore's orders. I argued a bit with him, but Hagrid stayed firm. So I decided to let Harry go to Hogwarts," Sirius saw the look on Harry's face - the look that could have proved to James that Harry didn't go to Hogwarts, but James hadn't been looking at Harry.

"I tracked Peter down to a muggle street. I wasn't thinking why he'd be there. All I was doing was following his scent." Sirius paused for only a second. His voice turned matter of fact, "I didn't even realize until after that I'd walked into a trap."

His hazel eyes narrowed as James took in Sirius's words. "What do you mean, trap?" He asked, but Sirius said nothing and looked away. James turned back to his son. "Harry? What does Sirius mean?"

Speaking for the first time since Sirius had arrived, Harry looked at his father sadly. He knew that this would hurt his father as much as Peter's betrayal to he and Mum had. "Wormtail isn't dead."

James stared at Harry. His mouth opened as though he had another question, but instead he clenched his teeth and looked away. What had Peter done? "Sirius, keep going. You can't stop now." He said after a long pause.

But Sirius said nothing, he just kept looking at James. Remus had been right, they needed to do this. But that didn't make it any easier. He had thought that telling it to Harry and getting his godson to believe him would be the hardest thing he had to do with his renditions of the past. But this was worse. James was here, and he knew Sirius. Harry, though he'd loved his godson the boy's entire life, had been a stranger then.

"Little Peter must have realized I'd be by. The only people who knew of the switch were you, me, Lily, Harry and Wormtail. With you and Lily dead, and Harry being a baby it was really just he and I. Remus wouldn't be hunting him for revenge, there wouldn't be any aurors, and Dumbledore knew nothing. The fight was between he and I, and no one would be coming in to stop us." Sirius said. He no longer sounded sad, or even bitter. It was the voice of a man who had been denied justice for too many years. It was beyond angry or vengeful.

Harry shook his head, thinking what he'd been thinking that night in the Shack, but hadn't known Sirius well enough to voice it. "You should have just come with Hagrid and I. Dumbledore could have gone after Peter."

Taking a few steps past James and towards Harry, Sirius raised his voice. "You don't think I didn't realize that? God, I had that thought every damn day in Azkaban!"

The blood drained from Sirius's face when he realized what he'd said. Behind him he heard a dry sob from James. He didn't turn around when his friend's soft pleading assaulted his ears.

"Tell me you didn't, Sirius. Oh Merlin, tell me you didn't get thrown in Azkaban for Peter's betrayal." He begged, not caring to act strong. Harry stood up and moved around the picnic table, but Sirius stopped him with a look. Harry obeyed the silent command and stayed where he was without a word.

Sirius went on as though James and Harry hadn't spoken, as though there had been no interruptions in his story. "I cornered him. I was all ready for a duel, one I knew I could win. Peter knew it too, he wasn't stupid enough to forget how terrible a dueler he was, especially when he knew how amazing I was. Which is why Wormtail did the next best thing. He started screaming – for a whole street full of muggles to hear – that _I'd_ betrayed you, that _I'd_ been the spy, that _I _worked for Voldemort." He laughed.

But James was doing anything but laughing. And Harry was eyeing them both, worried for mental states after this was over. James shook his head in a silent plea, but for what Harry didn't know.

"Then, he blew up the street. He moved quicker than I did, for the first time. Thirteen muggles and pretended to add one wizard to that list, not before cutting off his finger though." Sirius explained. James's eyes widened with the realization that Peter faked his own death. "Yeah, little bastard transformed and sped down the sewers, looking no different than any of the other rats down there. Of course, no one saw this but me."

"What did you do?" James asked, after waiting a minute to see if Sirius would continue. The horror on his face was evident. And now that he knew the outcome, he wasn't waiting for a wonderful miracle to occur in the story. His best friend went to Azkaban for crimes he hadn't even committed. And with Sirius there, he wasn't even sure he wanted to know where his son had ended up. Somehow, Remus seemed to good too be true in a story this bad, it would go against the grain already set down.

Harry clenched his jaw, remembering exactly what his godfather had done after. "He laughed."

"Oh Padfoot, you always did do that. They must have thought you were crazy." James whispered. He wasn't really saying it to anyone, more just saying it aloud. The three of them stood there without saying a word, and soon the minutes of silence dragged on.

Each person was lost in their own thoughts, their own memories of what had happened. For Sirius it was almost a relief to have gotten it all out. But the worry of what James had to say started to pull him down from his lighter existence.

James didn't know what to say to Sirius, or to Harry. His mind spun with the news he had received, and he couldn't help but feel it was his entire fault. As much as the rest of them wanted to believe it, James wasn't forgetting anything. He had been replaying all of his decisions that lead to Peter's betrayal in his mind. He still had to have a talk with Remus. But with this, he could just apologize to Sirius, it was too big, too awful.

He couldn't help but think it was his fault. If they had told Dumbledore, or had the presence of mind not to suspect Remus, then Sirius would have been fine. If they hadn't been so stupid and blind nothing would have happened after his death. Sirius and Harry could have been fine.

"I'm sorry."

James blinked and turned towards Sirius. "What?" James didn't understand, this wasn't Sirius's fault, it was his. Why was he apologizing?

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for suggesting Peter as secret keeper, and not doing it myself. I'm sorry for planting the seed of doubt against Remus in your head." Sirius rambled. "I'm sorry for not thinking before I attacked Peter. I'm sorry I wasn't there for Harry."

Shaking his head, James let it tilt as though he was shielding his eyes, but still wanted to look. "Sir...."

"No!" Sirius interrupted. "I'm sorry, and you can't say it wasn't my fault. Because it was, at least some of it was. Do you know why I didn't go insane in Azkaban? Because I wanted revenge on Peter. And I could tell myself that I was innocent. It wasn't happy thoughts, and they couldn't take it from me. Even then, even when I knew how wrong I'd been before, I still wanted him dead. I acted like a fool and you, Harry and Lily paid the price. You can't tell me you're not angry."

"I'm not! You didn't know. If it were your fault for suggesting Peter, then wouldn't it be my fault for saying yes? You didn't force me into anything, Sirius." James pointed out, desperate for Sirius to understand. He couldn't believe that Sirius would believe that, much less let it hurt him for years like it had.

Nodding, Harry made himself known again. "He's right, Sirius."

"I need to know right now if you even blame me a little. I know Harry doesn't, I've asked him, hell, I've asked him enough times to make him roll his eyes." Sirius stated, the look on Harry's face suggested it had gone even beyond that. "But I don't know about you. James, don't just say you don't blame me because you think I've been punished enough, or you don't want to admit it or whatever reason. I have to know the truth."

James walked forward and grabbed Sirius by the shoulders. "Look at me, Sirius Black." He commanded, though his voice didn't rise or grow harsher. There was something about the way he said it that made Sirius obey. Their eyes locked and James continued. "I do **not** blame you for what happened. I do **not **think that this is your fault. And I do** not** believe that you gave Harry up because you wanted it."

"But I know you, I know that even if I say I don't blame you, you'll blame yourself. You take friendship and loyalty very seriously. You don't betray the ones you love, and when you do it's like a death sentence for you. Which is why I know that you can't say Remus blames you, because you've probably done this with him already to ask for forgiveness." James guessed correctly. "I know that you'll keep this going and let it eat at you because you see the smallest things as something you've done wrong towards us."

Sirius couldn't tear his eyes away from James's face, but no matter how hard he tried James's face blurred with the force of the tears. James was not crying though, his voice was not wavering. The convictions of his words were sound of any emotions or thoughts. It was instinct. "You've done nothing wrong Sirius. But I know you don't believe me. Which is why I'm making you let this go."

"I forgive you, Sirius."

For the first time since he was twenty-one, Sirius let the guilt go.

* * *

_Ahh, there we go, the Azkaban conversation. I was planning on doing the Dursley one in this one too, but it's gone on long enough and that would be another six or seven pages (we're up to eleven), and I felt it had been pretty dramatic already. I hope that the next chapter is slightly less intense. Please, let me know what you think. I'm not sure how pleased I am with this chapter._

_Don't sign my name in blood on this or anything, but I'm pretty sure that the Weasley's will be coming to Hogwarts next chapter. I really want to have a conversation between Harry, Ron and Hermione about all of this, as I like writing their bits. _

_Review, I'm begging here people. Trust me, if you could see the pitiful expression on my face right now...well...I'd probably be quite embarrassed because you'd all be cracking up at me. _

_**Stars Enchantress**_


	16. Werewolves and Weasleys

**The Return of the Father: **Werewolves and Weasleys

* * *

* * *

_Hello everyone. That was quite the response for last chapter! Thank you all! Don't worry, for all of the people that I promised a less intense chapter to, this won't be as bad. _

_For the last chapter of my other story, Harry Potter and the New Start, I did a Q/A type thing at the bottom. I figured it would be best to answer all your questions that way, instead of answering personal reviews with the same questions a million times. So if you've had a recurring question, check the bottom of the chapter, as the answer might be there!_

-------------------------------Hogwart's Castle

Ron's eyes narrowed in concentration as he thought up his next move in their game. His chess players were quiet, anxiously waiting the massacre of Harry's pieces that was sure to commence.

Harry, however, sat back and let it happen. He knew he was no match for Ron, or anyone for that matter. His heart was only half in it this time.

After the intense talk that had taken place outside at James's picnic spot, they all just went their own way. Each person had some thoughts to sort through, and further talk would have been too much. Harry wasn't complaining, he understood that James would need some space, but now that he had a parent he was all the more reluctant to let him go. Even if it was just a short period of time.

"Are we going to talk about this or do you want to lose?" Ron asked, not even taking his eyes of the board. Harry looked down suddenly, seeing that Ron was a command away to taking his queen.

Sighing, Harry fell back against the ground, "Is there a third option?" he moaned, knowing full and well that there wasn't. It had only been three hours since he returned to the Gryffindor tower, and he and Ron had been almost silent since.

"Nope, no third." Ron answered. He left the table behind completely, thereby taking away option two. The redhead settled himself down in one of their usual chairs by the fire.

"Guess I'll go with that talk thing then." Harry sarcastically commented, sitting up and plopping down on the couch. He crossed his legs and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his legs.

Smiling at his friend's sarcastic comment, Ron continued. "So, you've got a father." He started, not caring how lame a lead into conversation he had just used. He nodded his head once as he said it, as though this were a normal every day conversation, when both knew that it was anything but. That was what you did when you were Harry Potter's best friend. You accepted the weird stuff and moved on.

Harry cocked his head to the side with his eyes narrowed, "You never did mention how you knew that."

"Marauder's Map. That and Dumbledore." Ron explained. "I checked the map this morning to see where you were, and it said that Harry _and James_ Potter were in the hospital wing."

Continuing Ron's tale, Harry guessed the next part. "And then you ran to Dumbledore to figure out if you were crazy, the map was wrong or my dad really was back."

"Exactly." Ron concluded with a nod. The two let a pause fall over them, but Ron didn't let that last long. "Is it weird?"

Harry didn't answer sarcastically, like he could have. Somehow, he didn't have the energy for that. "Yes, it is."

"Good weird, or bad weird?" Ron inquired hesitantly. Harry's first response hadn't really given him much insight. He wasn't sure that he should even be poking around in this, but Harry probably needed to talk it out with someone.

"Good weird." Harry replied instantly. "That's not what I'm thinking about. I'm glad my dad's back. It's just a lot of other things."

Nodding, Ron was clearly relieved. "Like the Dursley stuff, the Azkaban stuff and all the..._adventures_ we've been on." Ron surmised.

"Sirius just told James everything." Harry stated. He wasn't quite sure what to call James, though Dad was probably what he wanted. Somehow, he figured he'd be switching back and forth a bit until they were both used to it.

Ron's eyes bugged out. "How did that go?" he asked with a shocked whisper almost.

Harry couldn't help but laugh a bit at Ron's response. Had he not been there to witness it, Harry was pretty sure he would have been the same way. "Well, Sirius got forgiven, but only after James – Dad – told him that there really wasn't anything to forgive."

"We could have told him that." Ron said with an appraising head nod. Sirius Black's innocence, once explained out in the Shrieking Shack, had been pretty straightforward.

"I know." Harry agreed. "But Sirius didn't. Now he does though, and I think that helps him a lot."

That was pretty obvious though. Ron would have been surprised if it didn't. But Sirius's feelings really weren't his concern at the moment. "What about the Dursleys? Did you tell him about that?"

Harry shook his head. "No, not yet." Catching a glance at the look on Ron's face he hurried to continue before the protests came in. "I will. I'm not holding off or anything."

"Sure you aren't." Ron said agreeably with a knowing smirk. Ron really did know him too well, Harry concluded.

Rolling his eyes, Harry fought the urge to bang Ron with a cushion. "He'd dealt with a lot, all right! I didn't want to lay that on him right away." He defended.

"Yeah, but it will only be worse if you hold it off." Ron advised with a grave look.

"I know."

----------------------------North Tower, Hogwarts

James sat on the windowsill, one leg dangling out of the castle. His mind was lost in thought, and at the moment, it appeared that he could spend the rest of the week sorting through it all and still have agonizing details to spare.

When he imagined all the things that had happened to Sirius after his, well, death, he hadn't expected that. Not Azkaban. The only step below that would have been death. And somehow, James couldn't help but wonder if that would have been easier for Sirius.

This also left the gaping question in his mind about where his son had been. Remus and Sirius were now out of the question. As much as he wanted it to be Remus, he didn't see that as plausible.

"No, I did not raise Harry. I would if I'd been allowed though."

James whirled around, and only his quidditch reflexes kept him on the windowsill. Remus was standing behind him looking quite amused. "You were talking to yourself."

"They say it's the first sign of insanity." James joked hesitantly. Remus had startled him quite a bit. He slid off the windowsill, not trusting his nerves to send him careening off the edge.

Remus laughed, though very much aware that James was looking a bit uncomfortable. "I could have told you that years ago, James." He teased only half serious.

"How did you know I was here?" James asked, a bit curious. He took another step towards his friend, wishing that he didn't feel so bad. Remus didn't appear mad, nor had he beforehand.

"A certain map that four trouble-makers made. This particular map was lost in their seventh year, not found again until two troublemaking first year twins stole it back. Of course, they figured out how to use it, and became the newest set of pranksters. I'm told they're almost as good as the Marauders. But they did pass on the map. To a green-eyed boy that I believe we all know." Remus stated. James seemed quite interested in the fate of the map, and he figured it would make an all right conversation.

James laughed, "Harry has the map now?"

"He does." Remus explained. "But his friend Ron had it before, and when Sirius busted into the Gryffindor Common room, he borrowed it. It's how he tracked you and Harry down. I decided to...borrow it for a quick look."

There was a silence that started to hang between them. James didn't know what to say or how to start. But Remus wasn't there to shoot the breeze. "I know Sirius told you. Are you all right?" he asked with concern.

"Am I all right?" James repeated. "God, Moony, I'm not the one that went to Azkaban!" He said, throwing his arms in the air.

Remus nodded, "Trust me, I know. But you did just find out about it. Harry, Sirius and I have all had the chance to at least get used to that fact. You just found out." He repeated needlessly. James knew exactly when and how he found out.

Sighing, James turned his back on Remus and went to the window. "I know that." He let out a bitter laugh. "It wasn't what I was expecting."

"And I wasn't expecting him to be innocent." Remus lamented quietly. He sounded dejected, but no longer angry.

"I'm sure you weren't expecting to find out that I suspected you either." James stated, his back still turned. He wasn't sure if he wanted to look Remus in the eyes at the moment. He wasn't sure he could. Remus had the right to be angry, and James knew that.

Behind him, Remus stayed quiet for a second. "No, I wasn't." he said evenly. There was no accusation in his voice though.

"Siri and I, we didn't want to believe it." James said. At least, though, they were no longer dancing around the questions. James knew that Remus would have them.

"He told me." Remus answered needlessly. James was pretty sure that Sirius would have somewhere down the line. "James, I'm not doing this with you if you're going to have your back turned." He said, sounding slightly annoyed, but not enough to raise his voice.

James obeyed, turning to face his friend. Remus could clearly see how sorry his was, just from the look in his eyes.

"When Sirius suggested it, I didn't want to believe him. I wanted to call him a crazy dog and move on." James said.

Remus chuckled a little, despite the situation. "He is a crazy mutt." He declared quietly. "But that wasn't important then."

"No, it wasn't." James conceded. "Things were being leaked, things that not many people knew." He started.

But Remus held a hand up to stop him. "James, I already know this." He interrupted, not quite sure why James wanted to go through all these facts again. Sirius had already explained, and that was enough for him. He knew James was sorry, and he wasn't angry at all, anymore at least.

"Remus, please. Just let me do this. Kind of a promise I made myself, okay?" James asked. Remus could tell that James needed to go through this, so he let him – nodding to show it.

Sighing, James continued. "We know that towards the middle of this – when the prophecy came out – that there weren't many people who knew the plans. Lily and I, Frank and Alice, Dumbledore, Sirius, Peter and you." He stated. Remus nodded, no surprises there. "And I knew obviously, that it wasn't Lily or I."

"Obviously." Remus agreed.

"And it only really took a look at Frank and Alice to know that it wasn't them. They looked like I felt, terrified that their child would be the one." James continued, his mind accepting that it hadn't been there child, it had been his.

Remus nodded, remembering his two friends, before the insanity. He'd have to tell James that, eventually. At the moment, and probably for quite some time, it wouldn't be important. But eventually he would.

"It wasn't Dumbledore." James added, not needing to. "Which left the Marauders."

And this was where James's part of the story broke of from Sirius's. This is what Remus had wondered about. "Sirius, Peter or I." He said, and then hesitated. "Did you ever suspect Peter or Sirius?"

James closed his eyes. And Remus took that for his answer, that James had thought it was him before even checking out the other two. But James opened his eyes and answered with a clear voice. "Yes."

This stopped Remus's thoughts cold. He hadn't been the first choice? "What?" he sputtered.

"I asked Sirius first. I didn't honestly think it was him. He was too dedicated to Harry, and he'd fought to hard to get away from his family." James explained, and Remus took note of what he should have seen in that time but had not. "But I had to check." He stated with conviction, as though, years later, the fact that he'd questioned Sirius still haunted him.

Remus nodded, allowing James to continue without interruption. Which he did. "So I confronted him. It wasn't at the point yet where we couldn't go out. So Lily and Harry weren't there. I asked him, point blank, if he'd been the one."

"He wasn't. And I was relieved." James told him truthfully. And Remus wasn't surprised. James and Sirius had always been closer than best friends, they were brothers and had an uncanny habit of sharing one mind. It would have hurt James a lot more to have Sirius be the traitor, because it had hurt him enough to have it be he or Peter.

"But that left Peter and Me." Remus prompted him, hoping to hear more.

James took the hint and continued. "Yeah, it left you and Wormtail. At first, I didn't think it could be you. I mean, you're too loyal, and you had no tendencies for the darker side of things. But you're good a magic, you're smart. Peter wasn't."

So he hadn't been the first choice. Remus felt a breath he hadn't been aware he was holding. A breath that he had the feeling he'd held in for over a decade.

---------------------------The Burrow – Ginny's Room

"Hello, ladies!" George greeted as he swung open Ginny's door. Fred followed in behind him and they both sent a quick glance around the room. Ginny's room – since she was a girl – wasn't often treaded upon by the others in the house. Not in years, anyway. And now it was really only Mrs. Weasley who stepped inside.

Ginny looked momentarily shocked to see her brothers in her room. "What are you doing?"

"So quick to get to the point!" Fred admonished lightly as he took a seat on Ginny's desk. George, however, was inspecting a collection of old stuffed animals that had survived her early teenage years. It was a small collection, but he seemed interested anyway.

Hermione looked at the two warily. They both turned to stare back equally as intently. All three were searching for something, and all three found the same results.

Fred and George knew. And now Hermione was aware of it.

"Nice performance at breakfast, really award winning." George complimented quite seriously.

"But not good enough to fool the likes of us." Fred concluded. Ginny smacked her forehead and collapsed next to Hermione on the bed.

George walked forward and grabbed her hands, pulling her back up to a sitting position. "Don't worry, Gin, we don't plan on telling Mum."

"Though it would be nice for someone else to get in trouble for a change." Fred added with a grin. Truth be told, and his grin did tell the truth, they didn't really mind much at all. "You should have clued us in though, we could have helped." He added, grin fading.

Hermione looked a little surprised at them. She looked back and forth between the two, trying to gauge sincerity. And what she found was nothing short of it. "We're sorry. But we had to act fast and didn't fancy explaining why to someone else."

"Where would the ickle Ronniekins and Harry be?" Fred asked, still quite serious. The twins prided themselves on knowing all their family's movements, and letting this slip past them was pretty big on their scales.

Rolling her eyes at the nickname that Ron would never shake, Hermione filled the twins in on the situation. Once she finished her story a few seconds of silence took over the room.

"And they're still not back." Ginny added after a minute. The worry in her voice was practically tangible.

"If they've been at Hogwarts all this time then Dumbledore must know they're there." George told her, attempting to be comforting. He patted her arm sympathetically.

Fred nodded, agreeing with his twin. "Yeah, besides, Remus is there. And probably Sirius."

"That's not what I'm worried about." Hermione interjected, drawing the attention to her. "If it's big enough to stall them this long in getting back, then obviously this is more than we thought."

Again, Fred agreed. "If it's big enough to make Mum's reaction not important, then it's big all right."

Ginny seemed to be about to add something, but the twins both got up as though a invisible signal had been let loose. "We'll help you hold off Mum. They don't get back by this time tomorrow – if we manage to keep Mum in the dark that long – then we tell, all right?" George asked.

"Deal." Hermione said with a nod. "And Fred, George?" The twins turned back around. "Thanks."

------------------------------North Tower, Hogwarts

"Then I remembered how the werewolves were joining up with Voldemort. When I reminded Lily of that I wanted to hit myself." James told him. "I couldn't believe I'd even said it."

"But it made sense." Remus said for him, he knew that James didn't want to say it himself.

James looked at him with sad eyes before nodding. "Yeah, it did. And Peter, Merlin Remus, he's so talentless! He was practically a squib. What did Voldemort want with him!? You're the one with the talent for magic. Hell, you're the one with the common sense!"

The exact same question had run through Remus's mind before. And he had come no closer to an answer than James would. "I don't know, James. It had to have been Peter who approached Voldemort."

"Why?" James asked simply. His head hung down as he remembered exactly what that betrayal entailed. He never really let him mind stray far from it. From the price that Lily had paid.

Gently as possible, Remus answered. He and Sirius had mulled over the same thing, though neither had come up with an answer. "Jealously?"

James didn't answer. He didn't want to think about it, and that much was clear. "So I started thinking it was you. But I didn't want to, Remus. I swear to you, I didn't want it to be you."

Remus stared at James. "I can tell." He said, his emotions showing from his eyes.

"I swore to myself, that the day that this was all over, I would tell you how sorry I was." James told him, a small tear leaking out of his eyes.

"Don't worry about it, Prongs." Remus said, a few tears trailing over his own face. But he smiled anyway, and James knew that Remus wasn't angry with him.

------------------------------Later That Night – Gryffindor Tower

James stealthily made his way down the hallways of Hogwarts. He knew his way around, and found that almost nothing had changed. The DADA room had migrated down one classroom, making James suspect that the old one had just seen too much abuse. But other than that, there really wasn't much of a difference.

He'd snuck around in the middle of the night long enough to be able to walk the way to the Gryffindor tower in a delusional state.

The Fat Lady was in her portrait, and James felt she'd hadn't changed at all. She always had a soft spot for him, which he was hoping to use to his advantage. "Hello, my dear!" he greeted with a smile.

"James Potter!" She exclaimed. "We've all been hearing that you're back, but to actually see you, well, my goodness!"

James laughed quietly. "Yes, I am here now. So expect to see a lot of me, all right?"

"Of course, James, of course!" She gushed. He always had been one of her favorites, despite the fact that he snuck out an awful lot in his school days.

Putting on a great show to look around him and lean in forward, James asked. "Might I slip in side the common room for a bit? I don't have the password, but I really would like to see Harry."

"Harry? Oh I do believe he and that redhead are fast asleep now." She said with a frown. She had never been big on allowing entrance without a password, and James knew that.

He moved back, bowing his head. Speaking very quickly, he pretended to apologize. "Oh yes, I understand. I don't have the password. I just haven't seen him in so long and I thought he was gone. Pretty stupid of me, I know. But I really just wanted to check up on him, you know, even if he was sleeping."

Turning to go, he quickly hid his smirk as the Fat Lady called him back. "James!"

"Yes?" He asked, his eyes downcast. He slowly looked up, in a look that melted her self control entirely. She started dabbing her eyes.

"Just this once, you go in and see your son." She told him, wailing slightly at the forlorn expression on his face.

James gave her a brave smile. "Thank you very much. I do warn you though, I might end up staying the night."

"You spend time with your son." She encouraged as she swung forward.

He said nothing else to her, just stepped into the common room. His smile broke free and James could no longer help it. That had worked wonderfully. Slightly giddy with pride, James didn't pay much attention to the common room's changes. He just went up to the dorms.

The fifth year dorm was his destination, as he figured that was where they would be. He was right, as when he stepped inside, he nearly tripped over a stay shoe. After fixing his balance, he moved to the bed on the left side of the room. The curtains were closed and James slowly pulled them back.

The Fat Lady was right, Harry was sleeping. But James didn't mind much either way. Quietly and gently as he could, James seated himself next to Harry. "Hey, green eyes." He greeted with a whisper.

Harry didn't stir. James took the opportunity to just watch him quietly, every once and a while allowing his hand to brush across Harry's cheek.

----------------------------------Next Morning – Burrow

How the twins had done it, Hermione didn't know. But they'd done it and that was all that mattered.

She and Ginny had been preparing their explanations when they'd heard it. Dinner had been due to be started in almost five minutes, as Mrs. Weasley was never late. Once dinner had been made, Ron and Harry would have had no excuse to not come down. They were amazed that Mrs. Weasley hadn't called them down sooner.

But the explosion rang in the air and shook the house. The girls had looked at each other, both knowing that it was the twins. They raced downstairs, where Mr. Weasley was holding them all back.

Dinner had been served in their rooms last night. Fred and George had been forced to bring up the trays, and were then able to say that Harry and Ron were fine and upstairs. That had been last night now, and the kitchen had been repaired.

Fred and George, now in a indescribable amount of trouble, were no longer able to help them hide the fact that Ron and Harry were no longer at the Burrow. Ginny and Hermione geared themselves for the explosion as they ate their eggs.

"Where are those boys? And don't tell me about some nightmare." Mrs. Weasley asked, rounding on the two girls.

Sighing, Hermione took charge. The twins sent her reassuring winks, which didn't help much at all. "They're not here."

"Not here?" Mr. Weasley repeated faintly. His fork stopped midway from the plate to his mouth, the hash browns on it had long since fallen off. "How are they not here?" he asked.

Mrs. Weasley's eyes grew large as the rest of the table turned to the two girls. Ginny picked up where Hermione left off. "They're at Hogwarts. Harry knew that you'd all been lying about that man, and he'd been getting strange feelings, so he decided to go talk to Remus. He and Ron left two days ago."

"By floo." Hermione added, not quite sure why.

Fred flashed them a thumbs up of support. Mrs. Weasley caught it and frowned deeper, seeing that it wasn't just the two girls in on the escape.

Hermione rushed to continue. "They didn't have a choice, this seemed really important to Harry! We're really sorry we lied to you."

"Yes, Mum, we're both very sorry." Ginny added.

Calm spread over Mrs. Weasley's face and Bill, Charlie, Fred, George and Mr. Weasley simultaneously winced. Even Percy looked a bit frightened. "Arthur, get the floo powder. We're going to Hogwarts."

Hermione and Ginny turned to Fred and George, all with a horror struck look on their faces.

Ron and Harry were going to be killed.

* * *

_I hope you guys liked that! I got done what I wanted to for this chapter, and decided that I'd just continue next time. I was planning, actually, on having Ron and James meet next chapter, but I thought it would be better for the next one. _

_Okay, on for the questions. I went through the reviews for the last two chapters and grabbed a bunch. Here you go –_

_**When is James going to find stuff out!?**_

_This is a rather popular question. As you saw in this chapter and the last one, James is getting the info. I just can't dump it all on the poor guy. But the Dursley chapter should be coming up soon. _

_**You have a thing for cliffhangers, don't you?**_

_Yes, I truly do. _

_**I can't wait to read Ron meeting James, is that going to be soon?**_

_Next chapter. _

_**Can you read my story?**_

_This is a pretty flattering one, as I've had a few people ask me this. Why my opinion is that great, I don't quite know. But yes, I would be happy to do this. Once the school calms a bit, I'll be right on it. _

_**I can't wait to see Harry/James bonding! More of that!**_

_I'll be doing a lot of that soon. Don't you worry, that is the main staple of this story! _

_**I don't think Remus is in here enough, can you put him in more?**_

_Yes, Remus hasn't been a big player in the last few chapters (though he was here for this one). I will be using him. I promise, I'll try to work him in more. I'm just not sure I have his character right. So if anyone has any thoughts on it, then let me know what you think. _

_**I noticed that James was surprised when Harry said Wormtail wasn't dead, he shouldn't have thought Peter was dead as he wasn't around for the faked death thing.**_

_I meant it to be that he thought that someone would have gotten him. After all that Sirius had said, I kind of thought that James would have been thinking that maybe he was in Azkaban or he'd been killed (maybe by Sirius). I didn't really specify that though, so I am sorry for that. I didn't even realize that I hadn't put something in to explain until someone mentioned it. Sorry! _

_**Will we ever find out how James came back? Sirius did just say that James had been found dead!**_

_Yes, you do find out. I have that planned out. I'm not sure when that gets revealed, so don't expect it next chapter or something. But yes, you DO find out. _

**_Does this go to Harry's 6th year?_**

_Truthfully? Not sure. I think I'd like it to. And worse comes to worse, I can always do a sequel. I think I really want to do something with his school year._

_**Damn, this is going to be a long story, isn't it?**_

_Hell yeah!_

_**I haven't been reviewing since the start. I can go back if you'd like! **_

_I'll forgive that bunch that told me this. It's all right, I don't review every chapter of every story that I read either. But don't let this continue! Tries to make an intimidating face_

_**Why didn't Ron floo back to the Weasley's through Dumbledore's office?**_

_I felt that he wouldn't want to leave Harry. So he's staying since Harry's staying. He did ask Dumbledore about it, so it's not like they don't remember that Hermione and Ginny have had to cover for them. _

_**What's up with Sirius yelling that bit at Harry?**_

_He was at his breaking point. It didn't really mean anything. _

_**Comic relief, heard of it?**_

_Okay, okay, okay, it's angsty. I did warn you though! I hope to lighten things up eventually. But I've still got that damned Dursley talk to get through!_

**And now, for the three most asked questions for this story:**

_**Is Lily coming back?**_

_No. I've decided - she will not return. I'll explain how eventually. But no, she's not. _

_**What are the ships?**_

_None yet and proud of it! Eventually maybe, but not yet. I know what they will be if I do add them in, but I ain't telling!_

_**I'm only reviewing because you begged, you do know that, right?**_

_Yes, I do. _

_OKAY - That took a while, my apologies. But I hope that cleared things up for you! If I missed any questions, give it another try. But I still don't respond, it's probably that I can't without giving too much away. Please, I'm begging again, tell me what you think!_

_**Stars Enchantress**_


	17. Meetings

**The Return of the Father: **Meetings

* * *

_Hey there, everyone! Thanks so much for all of the reviews, I can't even tell you how much I love reading what you all think!_

_I see that most people liked the whole questions/answers thing at the bottom. So for everyone who added questions in their reviews for last chapter, I'll get those done too. I don't plan on doing this every chapter, but I figure once and a while it's needed._

_By the way, I hope you all enjoy this lighter chapter before we decent back into the angsty wonderland that I have created. Nothing too heavy today, kiddies, but the Dursley talk is looming._

_The first bit of this is supposed to be simultaneous to the Weasley part of the last chapter._

_--------------------------------Gryffindor Tower_

Ron stumbled down the stairs of the Gryffindor Tower rubbing his eyes. He was still half asleep, and that was more than obvious. He was actually pretty lucky that he didn't trip and fall.

He'd bypassed Harry's bed in favor of getting to the Great Hall for something to eat. The morning before he had been told by a house elf that the Great Hall would still serve food, so breakfast, lunch and dinner hadn't been a problem at all yesterday. He was actually watering at the mouth at the thought of a nice cinnamon roll.

"Hello there."

"Ahh!" Ron yelped loudly, jumping up in the hair. "Harry! Don't do that, I thought you were upstairs." He practically shouted, hand over his heart. It was very cruel to scare someone like that when they were half asleep.

'Harry' laughed a bit. "I'm not Harry, but keep yelling like that and he'll be down here in a second." He advised with another chuckle.

Ron frowned at the statement. Harry was clearly more tired than he was. Stepping closer, Ron took a good look at him. And his eyebrows rose to his hairline. Harry's eyes were no longer green, but hazel. His mouth dropped open when he realized that he hadn't been scared by Harry, but Harry's recently returned from the dead father. "Mr. Potter! I'm really sorry, I didn't think you were you!"

The man – James Potter – laughed again. "Well, that was clear. I am sorry for scaring you though. I didn't mean it…okay…well, yes, I did." He admitted. If possible, Ron's eyebrows went higher. "But I'm still sorry."

Ron looked like a deer caught in headlights. He'd pretty much counted on Harry's presence to smooth this meeting along when it did happen. But now he was kind of flying blind. "Um…" he started.

But James decided to put the kid out of his misery. "You're Ron Weasley, right? Harry's best friend."

Common ground. Harry might not be there, but his presence in the conversation would help. At least, that was what Ron was hoping for. "Yeah, I am. Since we met on the train in first year."

James grinned. "Well, I don't believe we've been properly introduced." He said, jumping over the side of the couch and walking up to Ron. "James Potter." He said, extending his hand.

After only a second of hesitation Ron grabbed his hand and shook it. "Wow, never thought I'd be meeting you, Mr. Potter."

"What's all this Mr. Potter crap?" James asked, quite seriously. "Call me James."

"Okay, James." Ron said agreeably. Had he not been calling Remus and Sirius by their first names all summer, he probably would have protested. "What are you doing down here?"

Their hands broke apart and James gestured to the couch. "Didn't want to sleep in the Hospital Wing anymore."

Ron grinned widely, "So that's where Harry gets it." He said nodding with a knowing tone of voice. He blinked a few times, trying to wake himself up a bit more. He was pretty used to loud noises waking him up, which meant that James's scare hadn't really done the whole job.

"Gets what?" James asked eagerly. Most people were sidestepping the Harry issue with him, waiting for Harry to tell him what he wanted to be known. Ron might be another story.

"His dislike of the Hospital Wing. 'Mione and I practically have to drag him." Ron explained. He could see the look in James's eye and decided to indulge him a bit. But once they got to the Dursley department, he'd be claming up.

James's eyes narrowed. "Why does he spent do much time down there?" he asked suspiciously.

"Quidditch, duels with Malfoy, the usual." Ron lied easily. He had been expecting something like that, and had prepared for it. Besides, it wasn't a total lie.

The elder Potter seemed to buy it. When, in reality, he was just leaving it be until a later date. "Sirius told me that Harry plays quidditch. Apparently he's amazing." James prompted.

Ron smiled, "Yeah, he's brilliant on a broom. Got on the house team in his first year."

It was James's turn to have his eyebrows head north. "First year? How do you even do that? Is McGonagall not here any more or something?"

Realizing that this would be quite the conversation, Ron sat down in his customary chair by the first. James hopped back over the couch and settled himself down. Very much like Harry had the night before, causing Ron to suppress a grin. "Yeah, she's still here, and as strict as ever. Luckily, Gryffindor had lost to Slytherin for the last bunch of years, since my brother Charlie had left – he was seeker too."

"Ahhh, her ever-present need to beat the Slytherin's is still in place. I got out of more detentions with her than you'd ever believe if they conflicted with Quidditch." James briefly reminisced. Ron decided straight away that he liked Harry's dad. "Okay, continue."

------------------------------Twenty Minutes Later

Harry walked down the stairs a great deal more with it than Ron had earlier. He heard the laughter coming down from the Common Room and decided to investigate. The laughter became louder with each step he took, until he finally made his way into the common room. "What _are_ you doing, Ron?" he asked, quite exasperated.

"Good morning, Harry." His father greeted. "About time you woke up." He admonished teasingly. The serious face was all that James could pull off, and his voice gave him away. The serious face, however, slid away at the jaw dropped look that Harry was giving them.

From his chair, Ron chimed in. "Well, you didn't expect us to never meet, did you?" he asked logically as he could. Truth was, he was kind of with Harry on this. He hadn't expected to just meet James. Somehow, he'd thought that Harry would have introduced them.

Harry agreed. He had been expecting his father to meet his best friend through him. But this did make things more interesting. Though, he was slightly disappointed he didn't get to see the look on Ron's face. That would have been funny. Recovering from his shock, Harry shook his head. "No, I figured it would happen sooner or later."

"Good." James said with a nod. "Because I've been waiting to meet him. I couldn't wait for all the dirt he was bound to have."

Wincing, Harry walked towards them. "Oh god. Ron, what did you tell him?" Harry asked. There were a lot of possibilities. Though, Ron must've used some clever storytelling methods, to leave out the things he would have had to not mention. But he had total faith that Ron hadn't given anything like the Dursley's or any of their more dangerous adventures away. Which meant they were left with some rather embarrassing material.

Ron waved his hand aside with a small flourish. "Oh, you know, nothing too terrible. Some Snape stories. The flying car in second year. A few with Trelawney and her death predictions. Nothing too horrible."

"Snape?" Harry asked, "That must have been unpleas-" Harry stopped suddenly as James started snickering. "The car?" Harry gulped.

"Oh don't worry, green eyes. I'm immensely proud! That was such an entrance!" James exclaimed. "Though, it was too bad about the tree though." He added as a sympathetic afterthought.

Harry wasn't sure if he should be relieved or not. James obviously found the car story funny, but what about the death predictions and verbal abuse from his other teachers? But he decided not to press his luck. "Have you to stopped this 'embarrass Harry session' for breakfast yet?"

"No, we were waiting for you." Ron informed him, getting up. James and Harry followed suit. But before they could get out the door, James had captured Harry in a hug. He let go after a moment, smile on his face.

No one commented on James's sudden need for a hug, and the three headed out of the tower. Ron and Harry were hard-pressed to keep a straight face when the Fat Lady fawned of James and made sniffling noises as she observed "the reunited family".

"Oh stop it." James snapped good-naturedly.

Ron tapped Harry's shoulder and they hung back for an extra second. "Your dad's great, Harry. And he loves you a lot too."

Harry grinned, "I'd noticed." But the look on Harry's face proved that he felt the same way about James. The two teenagers caught up with James and started chatting again.

"James, you didn't tell Harry about Trelawney!" Ron cried, mysterious smile on his face.

Turning to his father, Harry asked, "What about her?"

"Oh that." James started. "She started teaching in my fourth year. I wouldn't be too worried about her death predictions. She did the same to me. I think she's got something against the Potters."

Harry stopped, a look of horror on his face. Inwardly, he was fighting a grin. James and Ron stopped, looking at him with concern. "Harry?"

"She was right!" Harry wailed quite realistically, "You _did_ die Dad! I'm going to die too, she's right!"

James quickly started to think up something reassuring to say to comfort his son when Harry started to laugh.

"You should have seen your faces!" He yelled, hardly able to control himself. Ron had paled considerably and James had looked panicked. Perhaps it had been a bit cruel to present James with such a situation so soon into his re-entrance of parenthood, but Harry hadn't really found that he could pass it up. Trelawney could have predicted the exact circumstances of his father's death and Harry still would have called her a fraud.

Taking a swat at Harry's head, Ron laughed. "Jerk!" He cried indigently. Harry'd pointed out a good topic, and all reason had darted from his head. Though, now, he remembered just how much of a faker the woman was.

"I second that!" James yelled. "Brat!" He tried to grab his son, but Harry's seeker reflexes were a bit too good. He darted to the side and started laughing with them. James made another good grab but Harry was off in a flash.

The two other's followed him. They were all oblivious to the fact they were the Boy-Who-Lived, his best friend and his twenty one year old recently returned from the dead father. At the moment they were just having fun.

"Get back here, Harry!" Ron yelled, catching up to Harry with his long legs.

Right next to him, James was running also. "You're grounded!" He shouted, knowing full and well that he did not sound convincing.

Harry knew this also, and just laughed louder. This is what he'd always wanted. This fun, his friend and his father. His smile grew and he started to speed up. A real chase would be a good way to start the day.

"RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY!"

Ron stopped dead in his tracks and a few feet in front of him Harry did the same. James looked at Ron in concern. "Ron? You just went a bit pale there. Who is that?"

"Mum." He croaked, voice cracking. Harry, Ron and James all turned around slowly to face the angry woman's voice behind them.

For Ron and Harry, it was a familiar – though frightening – sight. They had seen Mrs. Weasley angry before, but the look on her face was even worse then they had ever witnessed. And she was still half a hallway away.

James, however, had never been faced with a wild-with-anger Molly Weasley. "Your Mum, Ron?"

With a whimper, Ron nodded.

"She seems…nice?" James asked weakly, more than a little skeptical. He braced himself for an explosion. Mrs. Weasley was making good time down the hallway. He could clearly see six or seven other redheads trailing behind her, looking almost as apprehensive and worried as Ron and his son. Also, there was a brown haired girl that stuck out like sore thumb.

Again, Ron whimpered. Even Harry appeared to be making a strangled noise in his throat.

Molly came and stood in front of them. "Ronald Weasley!" She yelled again, as though the sight of his own mother had shocked even his name out of him. But, from the looks of Ron it could have very well been true.

"Morning Mum." Ron squeaked.

This seemed to enrage her even more. "Morning Mum? Morning Mum?!" She raged, "You floo out of the house without asking or even telling us and that's what you have to say!"

"Never mind what could have happened to you and Harry! If you'd gotten off to soon, or he'd yelled the wrong thing again! And then having your sister and Hermione cover for you!?" She yelled, gesturing wildly at the two girls behind her.

James observed the non-red haired girl. So that was Hermione. James watched her quietly, tuning out the Weasley matriarch. The yelling was impressive. But he'd had seven years of McGonagall and even more of his wife. He had gotten quite good at tuning out yelling. Especially if it wasn't directed at him, which was rare. The entire family had yet to really register his presence, or else she would have stopped.

Mrs. Weasley had started in on various punishments, ranging from de-gnoming the garden to death itself. James's ears were wringing, but he wasn't much inclined to listen. It did appear, however, that this was not a woman to anger.

Harry and Ron had given up trying to intercept with their own versions of what happened. As did Arthur Weasley, who looked only older since their school days. Hermione and Ginny – the only two girls excluding Mrs. Weasley – were also silent. Both with various looks of guilt upon their faces.

Even the boys were beginning to look guilty. And that James would not stand for. So he decided that Mrs. Weasley's breathing break was good stop to start in. He spoke just as she was about to start up again. "Mrs. Weasley?" he inquired politely.

The family's reaction was nothing short of priceless. The eldest men, Arthur and two boys, seemed surprised to see him _there,_ but not surprised to see him _alive_. His hazy memory of the first night in that kitchen did recall some men talking about calling Dumbledore, but he wasn't quite sure.

The other Weasleys – Hermione included – had various looks of disbelief. Without missing a beat, James continued. "I'm glad you see you again, as I daresay that our original meeting wasn't too pleasant on either end. Thanks so much for not, you know, calling me crazy or a liar and blasting me back to my grave." He smiled.

Harry and Ron, who were finding that James Potter was a very odd man, felt small smirks of disbelief creeping onto their faces. James, never one for pausing, continued on. "I'd also like to thank you for taking care of my son. Ron's been telling me some stories this morning, and your house was featured a few times. Ron's a really great friend for Harry. Reminds me a bit of Sirius and I." James stated, reminiscently. He was fully aware of the snickers his son was trying to subdue, and James was currently finding this all rather amusing.

"James. Stop torturing the poor Weasleys." A good-natured voice admonished from behind them. Dumbledore walked around them and up to James's side, eyes twinkling like mad.

Behind Dumbledore were Remus and a familiar black dog. James's heart clenched when he realized that Sirius could not show his true form without the threat of Azkaban. "Sorry, Professor, I really couldn't help it. Besides, her yelling was making my ears ring. Rivals Lily's yelling, and that's saying something." James commented with a wince.

Harry was finally able to get a grab at control. "Dad, I think you shocked them into stone." He said with a nod in the directions of the Weasleys. They were all staring at James, some with their mouth's dropped.

"Oh, well, yes, that's an unfortunate side effect to having a formerly dead man walking around." James informed them sympathetically. Remus and the two teens were chocked up again. And Padfoot was overcome with a strange sound that James was sure passed off as a dog's laugh.

"And you wondered why I dubbed you Snuffles." Harry muttered under his breath.

It seemed that Remus incarnate was the first one to recover. "Mr. Potter?" she asked hesitantly. Her voice was polite though, and he could still detect an underlying curious nature.

"Call me James."

She seemed a bit taken aback, but she did as requested. He could hardly have people running around calling him Mr. Potter now could he? Only two things would happen from that. He'd both have school flashbacks and think he was in trouble somehow, or he'd search wildly around for his father even though he'd died six months after Harry was born.

"Okay, James. Um, well. How are you…?" She trailed off, clearly unsure as to how to proceed.

Deciding to take pity on the girl, James saved her from having to find the words. "Alive?" he asked gently. She nodded. "Not entirely sure yet." He answered truthfully. "Now, I do believe that my son, his friend and I were about to go have some breakfast, Remus would you care to join us? And your mutt also, of course."

The "mutt" growled at James. But Remus merely grabbed his fur and pulled him forward. "Of course, James, we'd love to."

---------------------------Gryffindor Tower

"When you said you had a strange feeling Harry, I hardly imagined this!" Hermione raved with her hands on her hips. Harry and Ron were seated on their beds, and Ginny sat on the unoccupied bed next to Harry.

Harry just rolled his eyes. "You think I was?" he asked rhetorically. He wasn't really expecting much of an answer.

Ginny shook her head for the sixth time since they had reemerged in the boy's dormitories. "You three were right, Bill was lying." She stated.

"Told you he was. Some sick man, that was too simple. It had to be something like this!" Ron cried out. "But, I'll admit, I didn't quite picture a dead guy!"

Hermione swatted Ron's head, a swat that appeared to pack some power. "Ron!" she yelled, gesturing to Harry.

"What? He knows it. And besides, James doesn't seem to mind that much." Ron pointed out. Harry smiled lightly, proving that Ron was right and he did not mind at all. He was simply stating a fact, after all.

Ginny rolled her eyes at their antics. "So, you're happy then, I take it?" she asked needlessly, with a happy smile in Harry's direction. They were all pretty ecstatic for their friend.

Harry grinned back at her, ignoring the argument that seemed to be erupting between Ron and Hermione. After a second he turned back to his two best friends. "You really should have seen your face, Hermione." He teased, hoping to break things up.

It did, Hermione shut up instantly and blushed. "Well, it was shocking." She weakly defended.

"If it makes you feel any better, he startled me too. Actually, I'd come downstairs and I was half asleep and I hear 'Hi!' or something. I jumped a mile high – easily. At first I thought it was Harry though." Ron explained.

Harry laughed, "And when you realized it wasn't?"

"Need you ask?" Ginny laughed with them. Ron went slightly pink, but laughed also. Hermione, though still more than slightly angry with them, couldn't help but join in.

After a second, their laughter died down. Ron chimed in again. "At least you're never going back to the Dursleys! That's always a perk." He pointed out, needlessly however, as Harry'd already realized that.

But instead of making Harry laugh and smile like the intent had been, all it did was make him frown slightly. Ron slapped his hand against his forehead. "Oh, that was dumb of me. I'm sorry, Har."

Hermione and Ginny looked confused, though not for the first time during the day. "What?" Hermione asked, looking between the two boys. "What was dumb of you to say, Ron?"

"I haven't told him yet." Harry quietly answered. "My Dad, I haven't told him that I lived with the Dursleys. He knows I wasn't with Sirius or Remus, but he doesn't know who I grew up with." Harry sighed, "And I can't wait to tell him forever. It has to be soon."

------------------------------Remus's Room

James knocked three times on the door in front of him, as that was usually how he knocked during school. The marauders had realized that McGonagall always did four quick knocks and then waited thirty seconds before bursting in. So, James did three. Made not having to hide everything all the time a whole lot easier.

He heard a laugh from the other side of the door, a bark like one. "Come on in, Prongs."

And he did just that. The door swung open and James quickly closed it again. Remus was nowhere to be seen, and Sirius was sitting with one leg underneath him and one leg crooked over the table. "The Weasleys are here." James informed him, taking a seat opposite him at the table.

"Molly go insane?" Sirius asked, smiling lightly. He'd met the Weasleys a few times over the summer. Molly hadn't ever really liked him, and he highly doubted she ever would. The rest of the Weasleys didn't mind him much at all. In fact, the twins were pretty fond of him, even though they did not know that he was one of their idols.

James laughed, "I thought Lily was a loud yeller. She's still the worst, but Molly…" James trailed off, his face lost in a memory. He shook his head, not wanting to get into it with Sirius. He knew that eventually someone would call him on his grief. But now wasn't the time. And luckily, Sirius seemed to agree.

"She's got to be, you saw how many sons they've got." Sirius ticked off the various Weasleys, "A Gringotts curse breaker, one works with dragons, Ministry lackey, prankster twins, then Ron – who gets into more trouble than you'd think, and the girl, Ginny."

"Yeah, saw Ginny. That's how I figured out who Hermione was, since she doesn't have red hair." James laughed, pleased that they could just sit back and talk, though it did not have to be about anything at all. An activity that had been so rare during the war.

Sirius nodded, "I saw that you'd met Ron." He pointed out, curiosity tingeing his voice. "How'd that go?"

"He came downstairs and I couldn't resist." James grinned widely. Sirius caught on immediately and dropped his leg from the table to lean in. The smile on his friends face was all he needed encouragement wise to move on. "Kid jumped a good half foot from the ground. Thought I was Harry, but when he realized I wasn't and started apologizing left and right." He made a face, "He called me Mr. Potter."

Wincing sympathetically, Sirius nodded sadly. "Hermione called me Mr. Black when I met her. I think – teachers and authority figures aside – she was the first."

Curiosity getting the best of him, James questioned. "Where did you meet her?" He wasn't sure if it was the best question, but Sirius didn't seem to mind.

"Shrieking Shack. That's the night I met Harry and Ron too." Sirius explained. "It was also the first time I had seen Moony in twelve years."

James nodded, prodding Sirius along. "And what were you doing in the Shrieking Shack?" He tried to hide the anger in his voice, for Sirius and Harry should have known each other all through Harry's life. But he knew it was pointless, Sirius could read him like a book, and it was stupid to have tried to hide anything.

"I, er, well, I had dragged Ron in as Padfoot." Sirius admitted begrudgingly. He didn't sound especially proud of this. Though Ron hardly seemed to hold it against him.

Sensing that maybe Sirius didn't quite want to get into it, James changed the subject. "I talked to Remus."

Sirius looked up gratefully, "What about? Was it the fact that he's an ex-Professor, because if so you really should have waited for me." Sirius asked, earlier discomfort forgotten.

James's eyes widened. "He was a professor!?" his voice was heavy with shock and disbelief. Though, it did make a bit of sense, considering all the time the three had spent on studies – James and Sirius for prank and Remus for actual schoolwork – and all the students who asked Remus for some tutoring. But still, a full blown _professor_?

There had to be a law against it.

Nodding gravely, Sirius confirmed it. "Yes, a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor." Then he continued. "Harry's defense professor."

"Well, I didn't talk to him about it before, but I'll have to now! Intervention is needed, Padfoot!" James exclaimed passionately.

"Intervention about what?"

The two turned around at the new voice. Remus stood there smiling, oblivious to what was about to happen to him. "Um…James? Sirius?" he asked slowly, danger becoming more apparent to him.

But the response was hardly reassuring, as James and Sirius merely laughed.

------------------------------Gryffindor Tower

Ron and Hermione sat at the coffee table playing chess. Hermione, while not very good at all, was a bigger challenge to Ron than Harry. So, instead of beating Harry in under five minutes, he could actually get a game that went on for eight to ten minutes, depending on how badly he wanted to beat Hermione.

Ginny and Harry watched the game. Chess wasn't exactly a high thrill sport, but the verbal battle that went on between Ron and Hermione was a sight to behold.

"Ron! Stop grinning like that, you'll split your face in half. And don't expect me to run for Madame Pomfrey either!"

"Aww, 'Mione, you know you're going to lose. What's the point in trying to prolong it?"

"You don't know you're going to win."

"Are you in denial or something?"

"Ron?"

"Yes?"

"Be quiet."

"Okay, I'll let that smashed knight serve as my response. How does that sound?"

Their heads moved back and forth between the two as they shot back insults. Ginny leaned over, "They're like an old married couple." She whispered, giggling.

Harry agreed wholeheartedly, but couldn't bring himself to laugh. Though Ron didn't mean to bring up the fact that Harry had to tell James the truth of his childhood soon, he had. And it was weighing heavily on his mind.

"Go, they won't even notice. And you'll make it worse the longer you wait." Ginny advised, reading Harry's mind.

He turned to her this time, looking grateful. "I know." He whispered, still looking worried. She smiled reassuringly, though didn't offer up any words of encouragement. They would be hollow and they both knew that.

Without another word Harry got up and walked through the portrait hole. He could tell that Ron and Hermione had yet to notice his absence. Even if they tried to follow, which he highly doubted, Ginny could hold them off. She was right, he needed to do this now.

But he was still afraid of the reaction such news would get. Would his father be angry? And if so, at who? The Dursleys for treating him the way they did or Dumbledore for sending him there? He could be angry with Harry, maybe he would agree with the Dursleys about their punishments.

Shaking his head, Harry shooed away the stupid thoughts. There was no way that James would be angry with him. His fear was making him irrational. And it would only stew in him the longer he waited.

Harry stopped in the hallway. Where was he going? He really should have taken the map. But chances were that his father would be in Remus's room, so Harry turned down the correct hallway. Once he reached the portrait, he stopped.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked. A muffled, "Yeah?" reached his ears and Harry smiled. Juvenile to the core. He pushed open the door and stepped inside before closing it again. He hardly noticed the three men's happy expressions, as though they'd been having quite the conversation.

He focused solely on James. "I really need to talk to you. Now."

* * *

_Don't hate me too much. I think I'm physically incapable of having a totally fluffy chapter in this story. This wasn't even that fluffy. Though, the lack of angst was kind of hard to write for me. I want it to be known that I had this done Sunday night, and I would have posted it had the site allowed it._

_There were just a few new questions from the last chapter, so I'll answer those. The next time I do this won't be for a while. _

_**Are the Dursley's going to get their asses kicked?**_

_Don't know, actually. It's kind of a prerequisite scene for James comes to life stories. But I don't know if I like those things. I might, not sure. I'll think about it. _

_**Is James going to meet Hermione?**_

_A few chapters from now there's a trio plus James bit. I really want to write that, as it's been in my head for a while. _

_**Is the Burrow fireplace connected to Hogwarts? If not then wouldn't a bunch of people be able to get into Hogwarts?**_

_We'll say it is, okay?_

_**Can you please put up when your next update will be?**_

_I'm sorry, but all I can say is it comes when it comes. I do not have a definite date for you, nor will I ever. Best I can tell you is it's never going to be more the two weeks apart, and I'll never update once a day. _

_**I bet Molly's going to flip out when she sees James!**_

_She's already seen him. Remember? Back in the earlier chapters it was Molly who found him in the Weasley kitchen. She, Arthur, Bill and Charlie already knew. _

_**Why didn't we get to hear the whole speech from Molly?**_

_Okay, no one could possibly have asked this yet, but while I was at it I figured I'd answer this too. It's because I figured you'd get the gist, and I figured you'd rather have James's thoughts instead of a rant you can all picture in your minds. Some things are better left to the imagination…_

**_If this does go to 6th year then who's the defense teacher going to be?_**

_Let's not get ahead of ourselves people. I'm not sure yet, and I haven't given it any thought. It really depends on how this story goes. _

_**Is there going to be an animagus training part?**_

_Don't know…can't tell…don't ask. _

_**Do you know any good James or Harry go to future/past stories? **_

_Hmmm… Okay, well, the story Meetings of Marauders is EXCELLENT. It's by Whiskey, and it's where Harry and Fred go to the past. _

_**Wouldn't Mrs. Weasley know that Ron and Harry were gone by the clock?**_

_Work with me here people! You've got to let it flow without finding all the loopholes. Yes, she would technically know, but we're going to forget that for the sake of plot. Okay? _

_**How many more chapters do you think it will be?**_

_God, I don't even want to guess! Like I said, this is going to be LONG. _

_Okay, wow, that was a lot more than I thought it would be. Sorry about that. All right, I'm going to start writing the next one soon, as I made you guys wait a long time for this one. _

_**Stars Enchantress**_


	18. Death of a Childhood

**The Return of the Father: **Death of a Childhood

* * *

_Hello everyone. Thanks so much to the reviewers for the last chapter. You guys go on about how you love seeing my name in your inbox, but it's pretty equal, as I love seeing your reviews in mine._

_Here we are, the Dursley's talk. Well, wish me luck…_

_-----------------------------_Remus's Room

James laughed as Remus tried yet again to defend his choice in careers. It didn't really matter, as Sirius was laughing so hard that he was drowning out Remus's protests and feeble attempts to justify the professor-ness.

A quick knock sounded and James just leaned back in his chair. "Yeah!" he called, allowing whoever into the room. Sirius transformed quickly as the door opened.

Harry walked in and Sirius went back to his normal form when he had closed the door. _"I really need to talk to you. Now."_

Sirius stared at Harry intensely before closing his eyes and sighing. Was there something that he was missing? James turned to Remus, who had his face blank, though James knew from experience that there was more going on than he was showing.

Slowly, he turned back to his quite serious looking child. "Sure, Harry, let's talk."

"Somewhere else. I need to talk to you alone." Harry replied, as Sirius nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, James, Harry's right. You guys go. We'll be here when you need us." Sirius said cryptically as Remus nodded. James looked back and forth between his best friends and his son. But he didn't leave Harry hanging too long before he got up.

Harry didn't even give him a smile as they walked down the halls. He stopped suddenly. "I don't know where to go." He admitted quietly. His whole body was tense, as though he were nervous.

After a second, James responded. "Come on, I know some place that we can talk." He said, waving his hand down the hallway to the left. Harry saw where he was going and looked confused. But the boy said nothing and James wasn't sure if it was because he was nervous or he had deemed it not important. Most likely the latter, at least that was what he hoped. He never wanted Harry nervous to be around him. But somehow, that was one of the only vibes he was getting off of his son.

James walked up and down the hallway with Harry obediently following, still not saying a word about his father's odd behavior. The confusion was evident on his face, however. A door appeared and James walked through.

"This wasn't here before." Harry muttered as he walked inside and looked at the room in front of him.

The room appeared to be a living room. The colors were light tans with dashes of scarlet throughout the room. A staircase, that most likely went nowhere, was situation in the far corner of the room, where a door that also went nowhere was across from it. There was another door and windows that displayed a quiet street. The room seemed to have just come out of an actual house. A fire roared in the fireplace on the far wall.

There was something about the room that Harry couldn't quite place. It seemed so familiar and so inviting.

James looked around the room before closing his eyes. Memories of how the room truly looked now rang in his mind, a painful reminder that all was not well. He opened them to see that Harry was at the bookcase next to his old desk. Pictures of the happy Potter family adorned the shelves with books also on it. Auror and charms texts were mixed with pranking tips and baby books.

He watched his son take the room in, knowing that he was figuring it out, even if things weren't quite clear. Harry hadn't turned to him with a question yet, but James knew that it was only a matter of time. "Sirius and I were running away from Filch one night, we'd played some prank, I don't remember what. We turned down this corridor, hoping to hide in a closet. We ran up and down, hoping to find an unlocked room to hide in. I saw this door and checked it."

"It's a living room." Harry stated, turning to look at his father, "It looks like…"

"Our living room." James finished for him. "Yes, it is. Well, it's a duplicate. This is called the Room of Requirement, Harry. It will turn into anything you need it to. It will supply anything you need it to."

Harry nodded, but didn't comment. James sighed and walked to his favorite chair, then motioned for Harry to sit opposite him. Lily's old chair. James pushed down the wave of grief that her name or memory caused every time. "What did you need to talk to me about, Harry?"

Pushing back the urge to run, Harry took a deep breath. He couldn't hide the facts from his father forever. James looked intently at his son, and Harry met his eyes. "You asked where I grew up." He paused a second, "Do you still want to know?"

James stopped himself from nodding immediately. His fears were threatening to overthrow him. How could Harry be so afraid of this? This talk was overdue, but that didn't explain his son's stance, the look in his eyes. James's face twisted into concern. "Of course I do."

Harry looked away, watching the flames of the fire. Somehow, it was easier to not see his father's face. James said nothing, allowing Harry the moment to collect himself. He knew that Harry had no intentions of backing out now. And true to James's instincts, Harry spoke. "Mum's sister. The Dursleys."

The moment the words were out of Harry's mouth, James closed his eyes. Harry didn't see it, but he did it nonetheless. Anger and sadness for his son rose up in James stronger than he knew possible.

The Dursleys_. Petunia and Vernon._

How someone related to his sweet, strong and loving wife could be so hateful and close-minded had always been beyond James. He'd disliked Petunia from the moment he met her, when she was still Petunia Evans. The way that she treated Lily had always been nothing short of disgusting.

She called her sister a freak to her face and never had a qualm about it. Lily had taken it in stride, appearing to be used to such treatment. But that never stopped him from seeing the hurt flash in her eyes if only for a second.

Petunia hadn't ever liked him either. Her parents had taken to James instantly, not having a problem at all with her daughter's magic. She made snide comments, sent hateful glares across the dinner table. Insinuated how unnatural his abilities were. It had taken all his self-control not to reach across the table and ring her long neck.

When Lily got the letter saying that Petunia had gotten engaged, it hadn't come with joyful smiles. There was no doubt in either of their minds that Petunia Evans had met a man perfectly matched with her snide ways.

Then it came time to meet Vernon Dursley, and their suspicions had been confirmed.

Petunia had gushed about how _wonderful_ he was. How _well_ he could provide for her. How _perfect_ their relationship was.

But the man was nothing short of fat and terrible when they met him. He gave James the same funny looks that Petunia had. And he despised Lily's "funny business" as much as his soon-to-be-wife did.

When they had the baby, it was no different. The child was the same as his father and James knew it. The one time that he and Lily had taken Harry to see his cousin it had ended with Harry getting a bump on the head from his dear cousin Dudley.

They cut off contact then, not speaking of the sister that Lily could no longer stand. It was a given that the Dursley household had done the same for them. They couldn't stand that _freakishness_ being in their family tree.

Even then Voldemort had been on the rise. And even then they were marked. About a month after that visit he and Sirius had been in the largest battle for the white side that they'd had in history since Merlin's days. They had been hailed after that, the wizarding world came to revere the two young aurors. But the dark side, Voldemort himself, had marked them.

The prophecy of Harry came soon after, causing the Potters and the Longbottoms to go into hiding. Dumbledore had come to them then, he had asked them what they wanted to do if the day came that they were no longer alive.

The natural choice had been Sirius. He was Harry's godfather and his friend adored the little boy. They knew that Remus would be unable to take Harry with him, and Peter was too forgetful for a baby.

But then Dumbledore had mentioned that Sirius might not be there.

_**

* * *

**_

_**FLASHBACK**_

* * *

"_James, Lily, I know this is hard for you, but if you are gone, the chances are that Sirius might be too." Dumbledore pointed out gravely. _

_Lily and James sat opposite of Dumbledore's desk, Harry in his mother's arms. It was a position that James had been in many times before, but never for something as grave as their discussion now. Having to come up with a nice neat list of names of people who he would allow to take his son and raise him if Harry were to become an orphan was more painful than he would have thought. _

"_I know that, Professor." Lily whispered. "But if he is alive, Harry's custody is to be offered to him no matter what." She emphasized with a stronger voice. _

_James nodded, "Yes, Dumbledore, Harry goes to Sirius. I know he'll make a good godfather – he already does. He knows how to take care of Harry." _

_Dumbledore nodded as James did, agreeing. "All right, if Sirius Black is alive should anything happen, Harry will be given to him." He conceded. Dumbledore spoke the obvious, as it was in the wills. "But if he is not?" _

"_Are we sure that Remus can't take him in?" James asked sadly, he knew the answer. _

_With a shake of his head, Dumbledore killed that hope. "With Remus's condition the Ministry would never allow such a thing." _

_Lily sighed, "He would make a good father, someday." She stated. James knew what she meant, Remus was a kind person – and a mature one. He was a good uncle, and would have made an equally good guardian. _

"_And Peter, well, he means well. But he's too forgetful to take care of a baby. He'd get flustered." James lamented. There was no way, however, that he would allow Peter his son. _

_Dumbledore stroked his long white beard. He appeared deep in though, though James himself could barely focus. His eyes turned down to Harry, who was sleeping peacefully in Lily's arms. His wife saw where his gaze had gone and smiled sadly at him. She offered the sleeping child to his father, who accepted immediately. _

_He held his son close, wishing that this were another time. A time where he could raise his son himself. _

"_James." Dumbledore spoke quietly, regretfully, to bring the young father back to the matter at hand. _

_James looked up and sighed. "Right." _

"_Lily, you have a sister, do you not?" Dumbledore prodded. He looked intently at the redheaded witch. _

_But if he was expecting a kind or even moderate reaction, he was disappointed. Lily frowned, a look of loathing dripped from her beautiful face. "Petunia Dursley is my sister in blood and only blood. There is nothing there where it would count." She declared. _

_Dumbledore gave her a skeptical look. "But surely she would take care of her own nephew." _

"_Harry is a wizard." James said, angrily. "And to those people that means freak. That means unnatural. Less than human. I will not allow my son to live – or even speak – with them." _

_The disbelieving look did not go away from the man's face. He didn't appear to believe it, and on some levels, James could identify. He'd found it so hard to believe when Lily warned him about Petunia. But then he had met her, and then he knew it was true. Dumbledore would have to take their word for it. _

_But first, James needed his. "Swear to me, Albus, that you won't send Harry to live with them. You can raise him yourself, before you send him to them." _

_Lily looked at him sharply, it was rare she ever heard him sound so serious. But he was, this time. And she understood why. _

_Dumbledore said nothing at first, and James repeated himself. "Promise me. Swear it on Harry's life that you won't send him there." _

_Sighing, the old man seemed to cave. "I swear to you, James, I will not send him to his aunt." _

_**

* * *

END FLASHBACK**_

* * *

The swear - _the promise_ - which now seemed so empty to him, rang in James's mind. Dumbledore lied, and there was no doubt that his son had suffered for it. James snapped back to the present, back to his son. The teen was staring at the fire still, refusing to look at his father.

Harry's behavior took all suspicions from his mind. He and Lily were right, they'd been horrible to their son. How many times had they called him a freak? How many times did they tell him how awful his parents were?

James leapt up from his seat, fists clenched and teeth gritted. He surveyed the room, the broken promises that it held. The room that had sold Lily and James from the first moment they saw it. They wanted to raise Harry at Godric's Hollow.

Some dream that had been. It was a nice wish, but they'd been delusional. It had been war. And their lives had been ripped apart by it. Harry's life most of all.

He paced, unwilling to stop or sit and collect himself. There were too many emotions in him, too much he'd yet to have processed. He looked at the mirror on the wall, looking back at him was his own angry reflection. James grabbed a candlestick that was on a table behind the couch and hurled it at the mirror, smashing the glass and causing the shards to rain down onto the carpet below.

James ran forward, shoving the bookcase to its side. The books tumbled out, revealing all of Lily's favorites, all of Lily's charms books. His wife hated her sister, and there was no other nicer way to put it. But what Petunia did was hardly a defense. They knew, from the moment that Harry and Dudley had gotten into that fight in the playpen, that Petunia would never care for their son. There were no underlying instincts of aunthood in her.

"God damn it, Dumbledore, you swore!" He yelled angrily, though the old man was not in the room. Harry flinched from his chair, but did not make any other move.

Though, James was not done. He ran around the room, smashing and overturning everything in sight. "You swore! We told you that Petunia hated wizards. She hated Lily, she hated magic." He screamed, oblivious to the silent sobs escaping Harry or himself.

"She hated Lily!" he punctuated the point by tossing a lamp onto the staircase.

He was halfway to the desk when he felt two hands gripping his arms, "Dad! Stop, please, you're not making anything better."

James turned around to see his crying son. Harry looked afraid. Merlin, had he been so out of control that he'd scared his son? James felt the tears come from his own eyes even faster. "Harry, I'm – I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…"

"It's not your fault." Harry cut him off, whispering. He reached forward and wrapped his arms around his father. "I don't want to lose you."

His arms tightly gripped his son, and James whispered back. "You'll always have me." He promised. He was only slightly comforted by the knowledge that Harry wasn't afraid of him, but more afraid for him. "I'm so sorry I left you before."

"You had no control over that. It wasn't like you wanted to leave me." Harry stated, allowing no arguments.

James reluctantly released Harry and walked them back to their seats. He sat them down, holding both of Harry's hands. "I want to know everything." He asked, more serious than he'd been most of his life. "I want to know how they treated you, Harry."

"Dad, it won't help anything." Harry whispered, tears threatening to overthrow his composure.

Shaking his head, James responded. "No, it will help. Both you and me. You need to tell someone all of this, and I need to hear it."

"It'll hurt you if they were perfect. It would hurt you more if they were anything but, Dad." Harry pointed out. "No matter what I say it would hurt. So why even get into it?"

James squeezed Harry's hands. "Because it would help you."

There wasn't anything Harry could do to get his father to relent and end the conversation. That was becoming painfully apparent. He sighed and pulled his hands from James's. "They hated me, they hated you and they hated Mum. What else is there?" he said, leaning back into this chair.

Fighting the urge to throw something else, James shook his head. "Keep going."

Harry clenched his jaw. "They hated me! Why do we need to get into how they showed it? I'm sure you can guess!" He almost yelled. "I lived in a cupboard for ten years! A little cupboard under the stairs, nice spiders crawling down the walls, dust falling from the ceiling. I got Dudley's old clothes. Since Dudley's roughly the size of a full-grown gorilla, it meant that I swam in them rather than really wore them. Is that good enough for you? Do you want to hear more?"

He'd wrenched their hands apart and stood up, looking down at his father. The question hung in the air, waiting for James to answer it. Did he want to hear more? No. He didn't.

But did he have to hear more? Yes. He did.

"Yes."

Harry laughed, "Wow, that's a real convincing answer. Of course, Uncle Vernon would have loved to hear me talk that brokenly. He wanted nothing more to prove that I was nothing, no one and was less than human. Never good enough. Took me a fair few years to understand that there was nothing I could do to change that. I understand that they hate me. I get that now, I really do."

James watched his son's face grow red as he kept yelling. His heart was breaking in a million pieces, but Harry's had been that way for years. As much as James just wanted to hold Harry and kiss it better, he couldn't. They had to get over the past before they could move forward. "But there was a time you didn't." He stated, knowing how the rest would go.

"Yeah, there was a time when I didn't. A time when I just kept setting myself up for the fall." Harry nodded, smiling some twisted little smile. "Pretty stupid of me, right? What was I thinking? I must have been a really dumb five year old to have walked up behind Aunt Petunia and given her a hug. She screamed like I was something that…something dirty." Harry smiled at him, "But don't worry. I learned my lesson about wanting a hug from someone. You'd be amazed what you'd learn to never do again if you got locked in a cupboard for a week with no food."

His mouth must have dropped open, because Harry's smiled slowly disappeared to a face of resignation. "Sorry." His son whispered.

James stood up also, he took Harry's face into both of his hands. "Don't you ever apologize! Do you understand me? Never. You did nothing wrong. It was them, Harry, it was always them."

But Harry didn't respond to that. He just looked past James, as though imagining something. "I used to wonder if my mum would have done that. You know? I didn't know your names until Hagrid told me. I didn't know I was a wizard. They told me that you'd died in a car crash, that you had been drunk and you'd never had a job. That was all. In ten years that was all I managed to get out of them."

They both stayed quiet for a while. The minutes past and neither of them moved. Harry seemed to be struggling with himself, if he should continue what he'd been saying.

James didn't think he would. But at least now it was out in the open. He was almost surprised when Harry did speak again.

"I used to wonder if you loved me."

Literally snatching his son up, James pulled Harry into his arms. He started crying again, though this time Harry didn't join in. Almost desperately he answer, "We did, I do. I know your mother does too, wherever she is. Please, Harry, if you never believe anything else about me, about your mother, then believe that. There is nothing or anyone that I love more than I love you."

Harry still said nothing and James wouldn't accept that. He pushed Harry back so suddenly that Harry's eyes widened. "Do you understand me?" he asked, his voice almost harsh.

The dark head of identical hair nodded, but that wasn't good enough. James shook his head, indicating that wasn't enough. Harry added, albeit shakily, what James wanted, "I know. I know you love me."

"Don't ever think otherwise." James stated, pulling Harry back to him. He held onto Harry quietly, and it seemed that Harry was content to allow him. The horrors that his son had faced cut James down to the core.

Anger laced his blood, making him shake. How could someone treat his child that way? He might not know Harry very well yet, but there was something about him that seemed to make the people around him want to protect him. Harry himself had a light about him that exuded strength, bravery and kindness.

And the thought that someone had neglected someone like that hurt him.

But was it just neglect? It didn't seem to be just that. James could guess based off of what Harry'd said that there was verbal abuse too. Words like hate did not flow from most easily, and for Harry to use them would indicate something more than just being ignored.

James's breath hitched when he thought to what _other kinds_ of abuse there were out there in the world. Vernon hadn't? Had he?

Harry must have sense the shift in his father's mood. He raised his head from the spot on his father's chest "What?" he asked, "What's wrong?"

Leading Harry back to the couch, James sat down heavily. "Harry…." He started, but found he couldn't voice the words that came after. Harry would laugh at him, call him crazy. Things had been bad, awful, but never that bad. That's what he would say.

"Dad?" Harry prompted. His green eyes were tired and sad, but concern was also present.

"They never…" James started, "Harry, Vernon never hit you. Did he?"

Whatever Harry had been expecting, that clearly was not it. "Not really." He stated hesitantly. He didn't know the reaction an answer like that would receive.

But his answer did not satisfy James. "Harry." He started, but was cut off.

"There were bars on my window at the end of first year. I didn't even get a room until I was eleven. By fourth year there was a cat flap to send food through. But did they hit me?" Harry asked, quietly. His voice was raspy from the talking, making him sound far older than he was. "The occasional backhand."

James's sucked in a harsh breath. Harry should have been talking so easily about such a thing. But he almost sounded bored by the topic, as if this were old news. James's face crumbled, though he did not cry. "You're never going back."

Harry leaned forward and wrapped his arms around his father again, not saying a word.

"I swear, Harry." James started again, "You're never going back."

_

* * *

Finally, it's done. I've revised this a million times, and I'm still not entirely pleased by it. But I figure you'd want it by now. Please, let me know what you think._

_**To readers of Harry Potter and the New Start:** I know there haven't been updates in a while, but I do plan on working on the story this weekend. I've put myself in quite the rut, so I'm having a lot of problems with writing the chapter. I've got a third done so far._

_**Stars Enchantress** _

_(I was thinking about starting a live journal for this story to let everyone know what chapters would be coming up and when. Stuff like maybe teasers or polls/questions to see what you guys like and done. Do you think it's a good idea or not?)_


	19. Hints of the Past and Future

**The Return of the Father: **_Hints at the Past and Future_

_Hello everyone! Thanks so much for all of the great reviews for the last chapter! As mentioned in the last chapter, I have made a live journal specifically for this story. Actually, I put it up on Saturday, so it was up before this chapter. I didn't announce this chapter though, as no one knew of it yet. Normally updates and other things will be announced there. The link is in my profile. Feel free to head over and chat me up also, if you'd like._

_--------------------------------Room of Requirement_

Harry lay with his head in his father's lap, asleep and oblivious to the tears still streaming down his father's face. They weren't has heavy as before, but still there all the same.

But James could not help it. He wasn't even sure he wanted to. It would be better to get out all of his tears while Harry was asleep and the rest of Hogwarts wasn't going to pry. But somehow, he had the awful feeling that things would get so much worse before they got better. He'd had that feeling before, fifteen years before. And things had gotten worse. He'd died and left Harry behind. But the war was not over, and the danger had not passed.

He knew that only Harry could end it. That his son, his little boy, was the only one with the power to end Voldemort's reign. For that fact alone James remained torn.

A world that no longer had the threat of Voldemort in it was something that James barely remembered. It seemed like so long ago. But he wanted nothing more than to have that freedom again. It seemed like such an amazing but impossible dream.

The only person that could make that dream their reality though, was his son. And it was at a great risk to him. Harry could be killed in the process. And that was not an acceptable risk.

James sighed, and looked upwards. "Oh Lils, how can I let him save the wizarding world if it means I lose him?" he whispered. He knew she could hear him. And he knew she was listening, that she'd been there watching Harry through it all.

"It's our greatest fear come true." He continued. "I know you're gone. I know that, Lily, and I know I'm not going insane here. But you always knew how to make me feel better. Just by listening. Think you can do that again, baby?" James asked, smiling sadly. He didn't expect an answer, nor did he get one.

James laughed, causing more tears to stream from his eyes. "We knew this might happen. When he was born, when the prophecy was read. Even as we went into hiding, we knew."

"Why'd it have to be him, Lily?" James asked, almost angrily. His fist clenched as he thought about how unjust it was to have such a responsibility bestowed upon his son. "He's too young."

James sighed, "We were too young. Everyone said it, but we didn't listen, did we Lily? Not our style. But even now, they weren't right. We died, but we did it for our son. It didn't matter if we were young or not." James continued, staring out into nothingness. If he unfocused his eyes, the red and orange dying flames almost looked like the color of her hair. That dark crimson that he loved to run his fingers through. But he didn't need to unfocus his eyes to see Lily in front of him. She was burned into his memory. Her beauty, her eyes, her voice, her laugh. Everything of his wife – his soul – was in his mind and would remain there for the rest of his life.

James closed his eyes, calling up the images and sounds of Lily's laugh. "You should be here, not me." He whispered. "He needs you."

In his lap, Harry stirred. It was almost as if he had heard James, even in sleep, and was letting his father know that not only did he need his mother but his father too. "And I need you. I need you both."

"He needed us the most, without a doubt. But I'm sure you watched, I'm sure you know. I know it must have hurt you, Lily, to have seen him locked in some cupboard or backhanded by that fat bastard." James's voice became laced with an anger he was sure would never truly go away. Harry could grow up to be an old man, but James would never forget what his son had told him about the horrors of his childhood.

The anger became conviction as he stared at Harry. "He won't be alone again. Even if you can't be here, I will. I raise him to know his mother loved him, all those things that you wanted to teach him, I'll do it."

James looked back up again. "He won't remember you, but he won't forget your love for him either."

_------------------------------Next Morning _

"I will never sleep sitting up again if I can help it." James moaned, massaging the knot in his neck that came from his sleeping position. It was obviously morning, as the fake windows of his former home were displaying sunlight. Instinctively, he glanced over at the clock on his desk to see that it was displaying ten in the morning.

James stood up and looked around, Harry was nowhere to be seen. But a note on the mantle was.

_Dad- _

_You looked pretty wiped, so I didn't wake you up. Hope you don't mind. I'm with Ron and Hermione, we think she's still a little mad at us so we figured we should try to make it up to her. I'll see you later._

Love, Harry 

Sighing, James set the note down. There were things he needed to get done anyway. Avoiding Dumbledore until he was sure he wouldn't murder the old Headmaster was pretty high on that list. Finding Sirius and Remus would probably be a safe activity.

Plan in mind, James marched out of the Room of Requirement and watched the door disappear the second he closed it. That was the nice thing about the room, unless you activated it – thereby proving that you knew about it – no one could go in. It worked perfecting for the Marauders and James had the feeling that Harry would make ample use of it. He could get into a lot of trouble with a room like that at his disposal.

But, as James rounded the corner, he admitted to himself that was precisely the reason why he'd chosen to take Harry there.

It didn't take much to spot the fast moving dog running ahead of him. James stopped and put his hands to his mouth, "Padfoot!"

The dog stopped, turned, barked at the familiar face and promptly started running towards him. James laughed as Sirius ran at him, but the split second before he was toppled, he realized exactly what his friend meant to do. Sirius jumped up onto James, pushing him back onto the ground. "You mutt!"

The closest thing that Padfoot could do to laughing was all that greeted him.

"Get over here, you dog." James said as he pulled himself straight again. He grabbed the fur on the back of Padfoot's neck and used it to pull him into an empty classroom. Once the door was safely closed Sirius transformed back into in normal state.

"Couldn't resist, James, sorry." Sirius apologized, not even having the decency to try and sound sorry about it. Instead, he smiled lightly.

But James couldn't seem to do the same. "So that's how you've been getting around without people seeing you? As Padfoot?" he asked sadly, not really needing an answer to his question. The look on Sirius's face as he asked was all he really needed.

Either way, Sirius answered. "Yes, I've been spending a lot of time as Padfoot. Both in Azkaban and after." He paused, seeing how upset the subject made James. Cracking a weak smile, Sirius teased, "Damn good thing we aren't as arrogant as Snape thought, or else we'd have told everyone when we did manage it and then how would I stay hidden?"

James did not see the humor. "As soon as I can we're going to the Ministry of Magic and making them declare you innocent."

Sirius's face showed just how much he wanted that. "It would be nice." He finally settled on say after having many false starts. "But don't rush yourself James." He cautioned.

"I don't plan on it. I'm fine Sirius." James reassured his best friend. He could tell that Sirius didn't quite believe him. "I realize though, that it will take you a while to really believe that."

"Just a bit." Sirius laughed, falling gracefully into a chair. "So, freeing me aside, what do you plan on doing now?"

Collapsing into the chair next to Sirius, James rolled his eyes, "Well, first I've got…Yeah, and then there's that…But what's even better is the whole thing after, which is…"

"I get it, James. You don't know." Sirius said, holding a hand up to halt more half finished sentences. He turned to face James, who was looking at the floor with great interest. It wasn't fair to him to have to start all this over again. "You'll figure it out, eventually, you will. And I'll help you."

James looked back up at Sirius, who looked more like his name than James normally saw. "You've got your own life to rebuild, Siri."

"Okay, we've both got some plans to attend to. I, for one, plan on dedicating my life to getting Fudge out of office, Snape out of the dungeons and Moony out of his seriousness." Sirius said, falling back into his normal banter.

But James was having none of it. Sirius could avoid the question of "What next?" for as long as he wanted, but James wouldn't. "Can you just stop that, Sirius? What the hell is there to do for a guy who died for fifteen years, has a almost sixteen year old son – who happens to be some sort of god to these people, is a widower and has an ancient auror's license?"

"I don't know. But I do believe there's more out there for you than some guy who was Azkaban's most hated and most infamous prisoner. One who, as it turns out, is actually innocent." Sirius responded dejectedly.

The two sat still for a minute, before James decided to break the silence. "We're screwed."

"Yeah, pretty much." Sirius responded cheerily. He turned to James, letting the fake smile drop from his face. "Listen, here's what we do. You focus on getting over Lily and raising your son. I focus on getting free and helping you raise your son. Collectively, we raise your son and de-age Moony."

James smiled, laughing at Sirius's plan. "Sounds good."

Sirius leaned back, listening to James laugh. It was exactly what he'd hoped for, especially considering the night that James had probably had. When his friend wanted to talk about it, they would. But not until James brought it up, and Sirius knew that he would. "Until we get me free, why don't you just skip to part two? I'm sure Harry'd love to see you."

"Ahh, finally a plan I can get behind." James said, clapping Sirius on the shoulder. He was halfway out the door when he turned back. "I'd get started working out what you want to do, Sirius, because I suspect you'll be free by the end of the week." He promised.

_-------------------------------Hogwart's Library_

"Harry, quit rolling your eyes." Hermione directed exasperatedly at the snickering teen across from her. She, Ron and Harry were all spread out at a library table. Books were strewn around, and it was clear that they'd been at it for a while. "You said you hadn't done that much homework yet, now's the chance to do it."

"More like she's forcing us to, eh Harry?" Ron said, elbowing Harry. "She's watching us like a hawk!"

Harry laughed, and then looked up. James watched as his face lit up. He couldn't help but feel the smile creep up on his own face.

"Dad!" Harry exclaimed, waving his hand to indicate that James should join them. James did just that, sauntering over and dropping into the chair next to Hermione. He hadn't actually been formally introduced to her.

Smiling, James turned to the slightly nervous girl. "May I say, Hermione, that it warms my heart to know that you are carrying on Remus's legacy of enforcing homework when more fun things are available to do?"

Ron seemed to find this immensely hilarious. He snorted, laughing wildly. Harry also couldn't seem to hold himself back. Hermione pursed her lips before looking at the mock sincere expression on James's face. There was almost exactly five seconds between her stern expression and the smile that took over.

"Now that's what I was looking for." James said approvingly, laughing. He stretched his hand out. "James Potter, Harry's dad."

"I hadn't noticed the resemblance." Hermione commented offhandedly. She reached out and shook James's hand. "Hermione Granger, nice to finally – really – meet you, Mr. Potter."

James yanked his hand away from the startled Hermione. He leaned over the table towards Harry. "What is wrong with your friends? Every time I meet one they call me Mr. Potter." He straightened and clutched Hermione's hand again, pumping it up and down, "Call me James."

"All right…James." Hermione conceded. When she got over her shock, she realized she had a fully trained wizard at her disposal. "What are your thoughts on the goblin war? We have to write an essay and…" she started, jabbering on happily.

Unable to take it, James cut her off. "None of that. None at all. But if you really want my thoughts I think I know where my old essay is, as Binns rarely changes assignments."

"Really?" Ron asked, leaning forward with interest.

Hermione jumped up and swatted his head, then Harry's for good measure. She looked tempted to do the same to James, but for once he was actually relieved he was an adult. "You can't copy. Do you know the penalties of cheating like that? It's in Hogwarts,-"

"-A History." Harry and Ron finished exactly the same time as Hermione. They both sounded immensely bored.

It appeared that it was Hermione's turn to roll her eyes. "You'll read it one day, just wait." She promised.

"Uh-hu." Ron agreed, "Yeah, we will. Tell you what, after I go chat up the colony of acromantulas in the Forbidden Forest that Hagrid befriended as a child I'll borrow your copy. Sound good?"

Harry nodded, "You know, while Ron's visiting I think I'll fly over to Romania and visit Charlie and that lovely Hungarian Horntail from the first task. After that, in case Ron takes a long time to read the book, I'll have a date with Moaning Myrtle. I feel we've neglected her, as she did offer to share her toilet with me should I have died."

James looked back and forth between the three friends, quite confused. Hungarian Horntails were dragons, and what was a first task? The mere fact that Harry'd had a conversation with Moaning Myrtle – who never left the girl's bathroom – was puzzling. And what was an acromantula?

All at once, the three saw the look on his face. And at the same time they answered him.

"Don't ask."

_Short little chapter, I know. The real dramatic part was meant to be James's talk with Lily. Then I wanted that last part to give James a glimpse into Harry's friendships. See how he acts with his friends. _

_Anyway, remember guys, the live journal is up. The link is in my profile. Head over and say hi, if just to let me know that the thing actually works. I'm going to post a message announcing this chapter (though you all already know it's up) so if you have any burning questions or comments that you just need to have my answer to then you can ask. _

_Acromantulas are those spiders from book two, just so you aren't confused._

_Please, review!_

**_Stars Enchantress_**


	20. Blessing in Disguise

**The Return of the Father: **_Blessing in Disguise _

* * *

_Hello everyone. Thank you all for all of the reviews for the last chapter. I see that most people enjoyed James talking to Lily, which is pretty good considering I loved that part myself._

_------------------------------Great Hall – Hogwarts_

The four house tables and head table for the teachers were no longer apart of the Great Hall. Instead, one single table sat in the center of the room, long enough to accommodate Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall and Madame Pomfrey – the only remaining teachers at Hogwarts, along with the entire Weasley clan, Harry, Hermione, Remus, James and Padfoot – who dared not dine in human form outside the safety of closed doors.

Banter steadily spread across the table, gaining force as people became more and more awake. Being that there were six students – and two adults who had the tendencies of teenagers – it took quite some time to wake up. Even Hermione seemed a bit sluggish.

James grew slowly more with it, talking with Professor McGonagall. "Are you to tell me that you actually broke that 'no first years get brooms' rule _after_ I graduated? Minnie, how is that right?"

"What is not right, James Potter, is that despite the seven years at school and nearly three outside of school that I've told you not to call me Minnie, you still ignore it." Professor McGonagall smoothly countered. They both seemed to have had this argument before. In fact, Harry was getting the distinct feeling that had his father been gone for so long, Professor McGonagall wouldn't have been so tolerant of the pen name.

Fred nudged Harry from his seat next to the dark-haired teen. "Your dad calls McGonagall 'Minnie' and lives to do it again?"

"That takes guts." George added, looking at James with a newfound respect. He seemed a bit in awe. Harry smiled, glancing at the equally amused Ron and Hermione. Wait till the twins found out that they were eating breakfast with three of their idols.

Ginny rolled her eyes at the twin's antics. "Your dad seems really nice, Harry. He was pretty funny while he was pretending to be asleep this morning." She laughed, reminding Harry of James's idea of a joke during the morning. His father had been asleep on the couch, making noises like pretend snores every time Harry had tried to speak in the conversation.

"Oh yeah, because getting snored at every time I opened my mouth was a real laugh riot." Harry sarcastically shot back, not bothering to wipe the smile off his face. He was starting to wonder how long he'd smile like that. Would it get to the point that James had started setting down rules and he would still be grinning like an idiot just because he had a father to do that sort of thing?

Harry seriously suspected that would be the case.

Ron, however, was not interested in the current conversation. Hermione looked ready to comment on something, but Ron cut her off. "Percy's looking pretty nervous."

Fred and George quickly glanced down to their older brother. "He does. Could it just be that he's flipped out about James?" Fred asked.

Shaking her head, Hermione pointed out, "No, it can't be. He was fine at dinner last night."

"Then what's he got to be looking like that for?" Harry asked, staring down at Percy. His best friend's brother looked like he was trying hard not to call attention to himself, which usually only ever managed to get yourself more attention. He looked back and forth between James and the door. Percy even went so far as to try and laugh when Charlie or Bill said something funny. Of course, all this earned him was strange looks from his two older brothers.

"You think it's got to do with James?" Ginny asked, glancing at Harry's father. James appeared to be unaware of the attention he was getting, he was wrapped up in a conversation with Remus. He appeared to be fighting hard not to look at Dumbledore either.

Harry glanced down at Percy again, who had been looking at him. The older boy turned away quickly. Frowning, Harry responded, "Somehow, I think it does."

"What could _Percy_ be up to though?" Fred asked, displaying that everlasting low opinion of Percy that the twins always had. George nodded, wrinkling his nose as though the name Percy brought on a terrible smell.

Ron looked at the worried expression on Harry's face. "Don't worry, mate, I'm sure it's just Percy being Percy." He tried to say reassuringly. Had he not been looking worried himself, Harry might have been more inclined to believe him.

The twins didn't say anything, nor did Hermione. Ginny tried to smile reassuringly, coming up just a bit better than Ron, as she looked like she meant it, at least a bit more than Ron did.

James remained completely oblivious to the stares he was getting from Percy, but caught Harry watching him a few times. He'd just flash a grin towards his son and turn back to the conversation. He didn't seem to mind much, and not soon after getting caught himself, he caught his father staring at him. They both seemed to need reassurance of the other's presence.

Harry didn't pay much attention to Percy after they ended the conversation. Ron's brothers were all pretty strange in their own ways. Each with their own extreme quirks. Percy, unfortunately, only seemed to love work. He and Harry had been friendly when they had first met, but those days were long past.

He had been halfway through asking Hermione to pass him the jug of pumpkin juice when a bang silenced the hall. All conversations ceased and Remus, James, Dumbledore, Arthur, Bill, Charlie, Molly and McGonagall were on their feet in seconds. Everyone stared at the door, with the exception of Percy. Harry's eyes zeroed in on Percy, who was staring at his plate like he'd never seen anything quite like it.

The Great Hall's doors opened wide, revealing a less than welcomed visitor.

Minister of Magic, Mr. Cornelius Fudge, and his whole entourage walked into the Hogwarts dining hall as if they owned it.

And, with one look at Percy, it was clear who had called them there.

"Cornelius, whatever brings you to Hogwarts?" Dumbledore asked, his voice betrayed nothing. Nor did the twinkle in his eye. Harry almost wished he could do that.

Puffing out his chest with self-importance, Fudge nodded towards Percy. "Weasley tells me you're harboring a dead man here, Dumbledore." He said, callously as could be. Hermione made a noise of annoyance in front of him. Sirius growled.

"Minister Fudge!" James's voice rang out. Harry closed his eyes, wishing that his father would let Dumbledore shoo the minister away. Sirius appeared to feel the same way, because Remus had to grab his fur to keep him in place.

But James would have none of it, even if Harry had asked.

Fudge sputtered a bit, looking at James as though he were some foreign bug. James didn't mind one bit, but actually enjoyed the expression on Fudge's face. He could almost imagine the look on Lily's face had she been there to see it. Neither of them ever really liked Fudge.

Taking advantage of the Minister's speechless state, James pressed forward. "It's so good to see you again, it really is. And to find out that you'd been made minister! Well, to say the least, I was quite shocked. I mean, you were a member of the accidental magic reversal squad last time I checked. Right? File clerk if memory serves…"

Ron snorted, and Harry could hardly hold himself back either. Percy shot them a look from the other end of the table. But they could care less, he was lucky they weren't falling down. From behind him, Harry could hear a suspicious snuffling noise.

"To think you had that great of luck. Of all the candidates for the job, _you_ won." James marveled, shaking his head in wonder. "Speaks highly of the wizarding community."

Unable to just shut up when it was good for him, Fudge puffed out his chest importantly. "Now see here…"

"Cornelius, what brings you here today?" Dumbledore interrupted gently, repeating his question from earlier. James looked a little put out, as though he'd been having fun. Harry couldn't blame him.

Mind seemingly back on track, Cornelius turned to Dumbledore. His eyes refused to stray to either of the Potter men. "To disprove this man's ludicrous claim. James Potter, god bless his soul," He added last second, rather unconvincingly, "-has been dead for many years now. The notion that he has returned is unfathomable."

"Those were some big words for such a dumb guy." Fred muttered from the side of his mouth.

George muttered back, "His secretary prepped him."

Had the situation not been so intense, Harry would have laughed. He was worried as it was though, what did they want from his father? Surely it was just to confirm his story, which they already knew to be true.

Ron seemed to be in a state of shock, and had yet to realize his brother's part in all of it. But the shock seemed to be wearing off, and both Harry and Hermione sent each other worried glances. Ron looked over to Percy, his fists clenched in anger. "You called the ministry?" he hissed.

Percy stood up, earlier nerves seemingly forgotten behind the pompous exterior. But Harry could still see them there. He cleared his throat. "They _should_ have been notified from the start. I'm doing what Dumbledore should have had the foresight to do when this whole thing started."

"Notified? Are you crazy? This has nothing to do with them! It's Harry and James's business only!" Ron yelled as Harry grabbed the back of his shirt to keep him from pouncing Percy.

The elder Weasley brother seemed to be gearing up with a response, but James cut him off. He held up a hand towards Ron as if to keep him at bay. "It's all right, Ron, I've been meaning to talk to Fudge anyway."

Ron's eyebrows defied gravity, and the rest of the table – Harry included – was looking quite confused. A whine from behind them claimed the attention of Harry and he turned around. Sirius was staring at James so intensely it appeared he couldn't tear his eyes away from the scene ahead of him. Harry looked back at James, only to see that he gave a barely perceptible nod to his canine friend.

And the pieces all fell into place. Harry smiled and nudged Ron and Hermione, jerking his head back so they would see Sirius too.

But the rest of the table remained in the dark. Fudge seemed to be taken out of stride yet again due to James's answer. "You were?"

"Of course, there are a few matters we need to…discuss." James finished ominously. Fudge swallowed visibly at the declaration. Remus even looked a bit pained.

Dumbledore took charge of the room as everyone fell silent. "I think we should discuss all that James wishes to right here. If everyone would give us some privacy?" he requested. Most of the Weasley's cleared out, as did the remaining professor. Though, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Remus, Sirius, Dumbledore, Percy, Fudge and his entourage stayed.

Harry held his breath, waiting for something to happen. James didn't look worried though, and he wasn't. Fudge was too easy to predict, James himself having such good instincts about people, well, almost everyone. He stood, waiting for the inevitable.

He didn't have to wait long.

"Well, you'll understand perfectly, being that you were an auror…Mr. Potter." Fudge sneered, "If we use the Veritaserum, then we'll be sure that you aren't lying about your identity."

Harry tensed, not liking the idea at all. What sorts of things could come out if they put his father under the Veritaserum? "You can't do that!" He heard himself say, though he'd only really been thinking it.

James turned to him, eyes telling him it was all right. Harry realized, off of his father's hazel eyes, that this is what James _wanted_ to happen. He still didn't like it though.

His father turned away and back towards the minister with renewed determination. Harry seemed less upset by it, which is more of what he needed. He jerked his head to Harry after glancing back at Remus. His friend took the message and went to stand by his son.

"Of course, Minister, I understand perfectly." He purred, surprising the whole group of ministry officials. They clearly thought that he would fight tooth and nail against something along these lines, as it would reveal him to not be James Potter. They had another thing coming though, and not just about him.

A toad-like woman stepped forward and both Harry and James instantly did not like her. She had on sickeningly pink robes and a bow to match. She smiled at James, as smile that did not inspire confidence, rather more malice. This woman was not to be trusted. She approached him, holding out a vial. "Here you are, Veritaserum." She spoke, voice as syrupy sweet as James would have imagined.

But he didn't really want to take their Veritaserum, not at all. Behind him, Dumbledore provided the answer. "I would prefer that James take Veritaserum of our own potion stores. If that is not a problem for you, Cornelius?"

The minister put on a fake smile, merely for show. "No, no, of course not, Albus."

Dumbledore came forward, handing James a vial of the potion. He practically had to bite his tongue to keep himself from sneering that he didn't want the headmaster's potion either. But Fudge to Dumbledore, he'd rather have Dumbledore's. He said nothing to him as he drained the contents of the potion. He sent a sidelong glance to Harry, who watched the whole thing through his brilliant green eyes. Remus stood along side of him, with an arm on his shoulders.

He felt himself slipping into that feeling of a small trance almost. He was aware of everything, and had is own thoughts, but his tongue almost felt thick in his mouth. Dumbledore pulled a chair to him, and he sat down.

"Perhaps it would be best if I questioned Mr. Potter?" Dumbledore asked, pressing his advantage over Fudge. The younger man seemed angry, but he nodded jerkily instead of kicking up a fuss.

A man stepped forward from the crowd, "Professor Dumbledore?"

"Oh yes, Mr. Atman, good to see you. I presume you will be our official transcriber today?" Dumbledore asked, kindly smile on his face.

The man nodded, though said nothing more. He set up a quill and parchment on the end of the table.

James's mind instantly reconciled with the man in front of him, no longer the young man that he'd been when they started. Rhys Atman had been only a year older than the marauders in school, and had entered the ministry the year before he and Sirius. He studied the protocol of being a court transcriber from a man who had been at it for nearly fifty years. They were both rigidly conformed to the rules, and anything with their seal of approval was considered words from Merlin. He was exactly what they needed. He glanced to his son again, and saw that Remus was whispering in his year, presumably the same thing as James's thoughts.

"James." Dumbledore gently called.

"Yes, Professor." James returned, voice monotone. It was a side effect of the potion, to have an emotionless voice. He focused himself on the old man in front of him, trying desperately not to glare.

Dumbledore could probably see it in his eyes though. Nevertheless, he continued. "What is your name?"

"James Andrew Potter."

A ripple of shock passed through the entire delegation from the ministry. They appeared to be in various states of shock. Fudge sputtered again, nearly tripping over himself. The toad woman's smile twisted unpleasantly.

"And how old are you, James?" Dumbledore asked, getting the meaningless questions out of the way.

"Twenty one years old." James responded easily. They were assuring the room of his status as James Potter, and that was okay by him. He had the awful feeling that things were going to go deep.

Dumbledore nodded, expecting the answer. "James, can you explain to me how you came to be here?"

Too broad a question, really, but James spoke anyway. "I was in Godric's Hollow, on the street. The whole place looked abandoned. I saw my house. And I realized what had happened, about Peter and Lily and Harry."

"Peter Pettigrew?" Fudge broke in, forgetting that technically, Dumbledore was to ask the questions.

James stopped his speech to answer Fudge. "Yes."

"You are aware that he is…dead, right, Mr. Potter?" Someone spoke from the back of the room, a timid voice. Someone had obviously realized that they had no right to have come to Hogwarts.

His teeth clenched before answering. "Peter Pettigrew is not dead. But I wish he was." He spoke. The monotone sound of his voice was changed to a sound of pure loathing. And only a strong emotion could do that, one that was pure with no taints to it. And his hatred for Peter was complete.

The room was again thrown into a state of shock, both at his words and the voice that said them. Behind him, James could clearly hear Sirius's angry growl. It stopped after a second, and he knew that either Harry or Remus had shushed him. Dumbledore paid the room no mind, however.

"James, what do you mean, Peter is not dead?" He asked, twinkle in his eye almost lulling James into a false sense of trust. Almost.

"Peter betrayed us, he betrayed Sirius and he faked his own death." James said with conviction, though his voice had long since returned to the monotone. He felt a stem of happiness race through him. Sirius would be free soon. And the wizarding world would have no rights to send him to Azkaban again.

Fudge again broke in, seemingly with no self-control. "What do you mean, Potter?" he barked.

"I mean, Sirius Black was not our secret keeper. He was not in the league with Voldemort." Several flinches ran through the room. "And he did not kill any muggles. You put him in Azkaban for nothing, he was innocent. He _is_ innocent."

The toad woman recovered first. Condescendingly, she responded, "That is not possible, Mr. Potter."

"What was the point of giving me the Veritaserum if you were planning on not believing me?" James shot back, rolling his eyes. He heard a snort from the back, and then what sounded like someone being hit. An "Ouch!" followed and James knew that Hermione and Ron must have had a pretty special relationship. Undeterred, James continued. "I'm telling you the truth. And I'm the only one alive who really can. Sirius was not our secret keeper. Peter was."

"But Mr. Black was your best friend." The toad woman pointed out. He wondered at her name, but found that he didn't much care.

James nodded either way, as this was true. "Yes, he is my best friend. But he was not my secret keeper. We decided to buy ourselves time. Voldemort would obviously go after Sirius first, since he is my best friend. But Sirius would not be able to betray our location, because he did not know it. Peter did. We didn't think Voldemort would ever think that we'd use a person like Peter. He was practically a squib half the time, nervous and he got flustered easily." James lamented, regret almost tingeing his voice. "Of course, we _thought_ that Voldemort wouldn't' think that we used him. But he _knew_ that we wouldn't think that he'd use him."

"Merlin." Fudge breathed. The mood of the ministry seemed to match his words. And even Percy Weasley looked horrified. But Fudge didn't let his guard down long. "Well, that clears him of the charges of betraying yourself and Mrs. Potter. But that does not clear him of killing thirteen people with a single curse."

Fudge was losing, and James knew it. "He didn't do that either."

"What do you mean? You were already…" Fudge broke off, clearly confused as to whether to continue that sentence. James resisted the urge to smirk. "You have no way of knowing that."

"I know that you sent an innocent man to Azkaban. And I know that by morning the whole wizarding world will to." Fudge visibly paled. "But on top of that I know that you'll be scrambling to fix your reputation. Which means that hearing Sirius out would be in your best interests, because whether or not you listen to me now, I'm sure that I could have every wizarding reporter in the world here by tonight." James said, threat underlying. And Fudge wasn't stupid enough to miss it. The subtle hints and unspoken words rang in the air.

The choice really was Fudge's now, and they both knew that the ball was in his court. "Mr. Black is not available for questioning." He spoke at long last.

"Yes, I am." Sirius said from the back. James turned, as did the rest of the room, and saw that Sirius was standing next to Remus and Harry, looking far more determined than James normally saw. He stared at Fudge, daring him to say something against him.

But even the toad lady seemed to see that the ministry had lost this battle. Dumbledore made his presence known again, quietly interrupting the battle of wills racing through the room. "Perhaps we should take this conversation to my office, gentlemen."

Fudge nodded and turned on his heel. The rest of the ministry followed, but Percy stayed where he was. Sirius pulled James to his feet. "Thank you." He whispered. Remus came up to stand next to them, smiling softly.

James turned to Harry. "Stay here, we'll find you when this is over." He promised, smiling. Harry nodded and winked at Sirius.

"Ready?" Remus asked, addressing both marauders.

"You have no idea." Sirius responded grimly.

--------------------------------Two Hours Later

Harry had paced, played chess, put up with endless banter and finally was sitting in his armchair in the Gryffindor Tower quite dejectedly. "What's taking so long?" he complained, yet again.

But Hermione was being rather patient. "Things like this probably take a while. There's paperwork and stuff. Plus there's a lot of history to get through." She explained, not quite sounding convinced.

"Besides, Fudge is an incompetent jerk. He's probably the one taking so long." Ron put in sympathetically.

But Harry was at his wit's end. "It's been two hours!" he practically yelled.

"Two of the best hours of my life, mind you."

The three teenagers jumped up and faced the three grinning men behind them. Sirius stood smiling the widest of them all. James stood on the left of Sirius, smiling quite widely himself. And Remus kept looking back and forth between Sirius and James, as if not quite believing what had just occurred.

"Take a good look, kids." He started. "You're looking at the newest – first and only – legally freed Azkaban prisoner." And he started laughing.

* * *

_I figured that was a good spot to end it. This is one of those staple chapters for a James comes alive story, and one I quite enjoyed writing. This didn't come out quite as I'd envisioned it, but I hope you all like it all the same. _

_Thank you once again to all of the reviewers! 1,000 is a number I didn't even think I'd come close to touching, the fact that this story has speaks volumes about how loyal you guys are. _

_**Stars Enchantress**_


	21. Nightmares

**The Return of the Father: **Nightmares

* * *

_Hello everyone! Thanks so much the reviews for the last chapter, I really appreciate it! Somehow, though, a lot of you seemed to think this story was done! I went back and read my authors note again, and it did sound a bit like I was saying that was it, but I assure you, I was not. Sorry if I scared anyone!_

_------------------------------Gryffindor Tower_

James had taken to sleeping in the Gryffindor Tower. The new student occupants of it hardly minded. Weasleys had taken over the tower, and Arthur and Molly had been offered a room of their own elsewhere in the castle.

In addition to his tendency to claim the couch as his own, he also checked on Harry at various times during the night. It was either a leftover of when Harry was a baby, or it was reassurance of his own insecurities. James didn't care much to analyze it. But somehow, seeing his son sleeping peacefully was quite the relaxant for him.

Of course, he was hardly going to relax when he walked into the room to hear his son's frantic cries and frightened whimpers.

Deftly sidestepping all of the things that Harry and Ron had allowed to litter the floor of "their" room, James raced to Harry. The teenager was thrashing in his bed, face screwing up as he moaned in the throes of a nightmare. "Harry!"

James dropped down on the bed next to his son and started shaking him, not exactly gently. "Harry, wake up, come on…"

"Kill the spare…kill the spare…" Harry whispered, tears starting to stream down his face. James stopped shaking Harry in the attempt to wake him. Shock and horror raced through him and it was enough to force the air from his lungs. Kill the spare?

Harry started sobbing again and James shook his head to clear it. "Harry, baby, open your eyes, it's all right." He pleaded, renewing his efforts to wake his son. Harry was thrashing even harder, trying to twist out of James's grasp. "Harry!"

With no warning, Harry shot up in bed. James grabbed him into a hug, holding him as tightly as he could without causing bruises. "Shh, it's okay. You're awake, it's all over now."

"No, it's not, it's only just started." Harry whispered, the sobs that tore from him marred the words to the point where James wasn't even sure that had been his response. He started crying again, and clutched at his father like a lifeline.

James had nothing to say in response. He just held Harry and kept talking the words of reassurance he had before. He didn't know what else he could do. The only thing he could really do was wait until Harry had calmed down, and then find out what the dream was about. And more importantly, what "Kill the spare." meant. Horrible scenarios flashed in his mind, but James pushed them down, focusing solely on calming his child.

Gradually, the sobs subsided, though the shaking did not. James kept talking, holding onto Harry until the boy slowly pushed back.

"Sorry." Harry whispered, wiping his eyes with the back of his sleeve. He looked down, avoiding James's eyes. His voice was raspy from all of the crying he had done, and probably from some of the louder moans and cries.

Putting his hand under the boy's chin, he gently forced Harry to look up at him. "There's nothing to be sorry for." James assured him firmly. Harry's green eyes stared at him, rimmed red and filled with pain. "What was the nightmare about?"

"Nothing." Harry said quickly, almost too quickly. He tried to cover it up by ducking his head again, but James would not let him.

"None of that." He gently admonished. "And it wasn't nothing, Harry. You were crying and whimpering. I want to know why." He said, just a bit more forcefully when it became apparent that Harry wasn't about to just spill to his father about the dream.

Harry shook his head, pushing back more and leaning himself up against the headboard. He pulled his knees up to his chin and set his head down on them. "It's not important."

James shifted on the bed, settling himself opposite Harry. "I find it important when my son has a nightmare and whispers things like 'Kill the spare.' during it." he shot back.

Startled green eyes met his statement. Harry said nothing for a few seconds, letting a pause of silence fall over them. Then, "I said that?"

"Yes, you did." James told him. "Why?" he asked again, determined to get to the bottom of Harry's nightmare.

But Harry didn't seem to know what to say, or how to start. He just sat there, staring at James as though his father was planning on pouncing him at any given moment. "It was…just a nightmare." He finished lamely.

"You're not acting like it's just a nightmare." James pointed out. "You can trust me, Harry. It's all right." He promised, waiting for Harry to say something in response. He wasn't quite expecting what Harry did respond with though.

"It's what Voldemort said to Wormtail." Harry said, eyes closed and posture admitting the defeat. He sounded tired, but not in a way that indicated that he'd just been woken up, it was the kind of tired that came from dealing with too much for too long.

The mention of the name Wormtail did not help James in any way, it caused him to practically see red with rage. And adding Voldemort to the sentence didn't exactly help matters either. "And what did he mean by that?" James asked, trying not to let his anger show.

Harry stayed silent for a minute. The time dragged on, and the only sounds of the room were breathing and the howls of the wind outside the window. James was almost going to ask again, but Harry answered.

"He meant for Wormtail to kill Cedric so he could fight me alone."

James didn't know what to say. He opened and closed his mouth once and then a second time. Clearing his throat, James made the third attempt to get something out. "Did he?" he asked, in the barest of whispers.

"Yes."

And again, he was at a loss as to what to say. There really wasn't anything he could come up with that was comforting. All he could do was say he was sorry that he hadn't been there to help Harry through what ever had happened, but his son already knew that. So he did the next best thing and reached over to give Harry another hug.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, somewhat lamely. He meant it though, and that was really all he could do.

Harry hugged his father back urgently. He sniffed, and for a second James thought he would cry again, but Harry pushed back instead. "I suppose I need to explain, don't I?"

"I think you should. I want you to." James said. "But if you're too tired tonight, or if the nightmare is too fresh, we can talk tomorrow." He offered quietly.

The teen looked tempted, but shook his head anyway. "If we don't do this now, I'll never get up the nerve." He muttered. And James wasn't sure if he was meant to hear it or not. It certainly didn't calm his fears.

But he nodded nonetheless. Quietly, he muttered a silencing charm for the room, so as not to wake Ron up. "All right." He said, nodding and trying to seem calm, even though inside he was terrified about what might be told.

"I don't know where to start." Harry admitted, picking at his blanket absently. He was looking down, and this time James let him stay that way.

"Start at explaining who Cedric is." James suggested, covering Harry's hand with his own.

Harry choked back another sob and shook his head. "Was." He said, "Who Cedric _was_." James nodded, remembering that Harry had said that Wormtail had done what Voldemort wanted him to do. Harry continued without seeing the nod though. "It was the third task."

"The third task?" James asked, confused.

"The Tri-Wizard Tournament." Harry explained. "You know what that is, right?"

Nodding again, James knew exactly what Harry meant. The ancient tournament between the three leading magical schools in Europe. It was dangerous and long ago condemned as too barbaric. "I thought that hadn't been done in decades." He commented.

"It hadn't, until last year. They brought it back and had everyone compete here. There was Fleur Delacour from Beauxbatons, Viktor Krum from Durmstrang, Cedric Diggory from Hufflepuff." Harry paused for a second. Then he looked up, staring James square in the eyes. "And me."

James shook his head, confused yet again. He had the feeling that it would happen quite a bit through Harry's story. "You would have been fourteen, I thought the age limit was something like sixteen or seventeen."

"It is seventeen. The Goblet – that's how they determine who's going to compete – spit my name too." He explained, sitting up a bit straighter. He pulled his hand away from James's to run a hand though his hair and then flatten his bangs over his forehead. His father watched, noting that the act of hiding his scar seemed to be a nervous habit. "What we didn't know then was that a death eater had put my name in it's own category. A fourth school that didn't exist, and I was the only candidate. They were making me compete."

Hazel eyes narrowed, "A death eater? Dumbledore lets death eaters in his school to tamper with antiques?" he asked, feeling the anger with the headmaster rising again. He'd made quite the effort to stay clear of Dumbledore since he'd talked with Harry about his childhood.

Surprisingly enough, Harry laughed a little. "You'd be surprised." He lamented. "But he didn't know. Mad Eye Moody had come to teach, but someone was using polyjuice to pretend they were him. Crouch's son."

"Always suspected that little brat." James growled. "But more importantly, you were taught by a Mad Eye imposter? I know Dumbledore trusts him, but you'd think he suspected at least something."

"I think he did, towards the very end." Harry mused. "But the damage was already done, I was in the tournament, and there wasn't anything I could do to stop it. Dumbledore couldn't have gotten me out, or he didn't want to. Either way, I was the fourth champion."

A fourteen year old competing in a tournament discontinued for years because of its death and injury rate. James didn't know what the hell Dumbledore could have been thinking. "All right, there are three tasks. Something bad happened the third, but what was the rest of it?"

"The first task was ah…" Harry broke up, his face taking on the epitome of apprehension. "Well…" he tried again, wincing as he watched his father wave his hand to indicate for Harry to continue. "Dragons." He finished.

James's hand dropped. "Dragons." He repeated thickly. "What exactly did the dragons entail?" he asked, speaking the word "dragons" as though he had no idea what it was.

"It wasn't fighting them or anything!" Harry rushed to clear up. "Just…getting past one." He continued, slightly less enthusiastic.

"Getting past one." James repeated again.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Quit taking the parrot approach to conversation. You heard what I said."

James fought the urge to laugh at bit at his son's reprimand. But this wasn't exactly the time, either that or he'd best get a laugh in before they got to task three. He wasn't sure. "Sorry." He apologized, "You had to get past a dragon, continue."

"We had to get the egg from the dragon, a gold egg with a hint for the next task. To get past my dragon, I flew around it." Harry explained.

"We'll discuss that in depth later, I promise." James growled, inner stag flying to the surface. "And the second task was?"

Harry knew exactly what his father was doing. It wasn't the first or second tasks that he'd had nightmares about. They would be discussed later, but they weren't important at the moment. What was important was the third task. Sighing, knowing that the hard part was soon to come, he answered. "We had to save the one we'd miss the most from the bottom of the lake and the Merpeople. Mine was Ron."

"Okay, equally stupid and dangerous. Way to go Albus." James mumbled. In a louder, clearer voice he directed to Harry, "And Harry, what was the third task?"

"A maze, with things – creatures – you had to get past. We had to get to the center before everyone else and touch the Tri-Wizard cup. That would mean we won. Cedric and I, we'd helped each other before. During the maze also. So, after we'd gotten past the last bit together, we were both right next to the cup." Harry explained, voice becoming pained. "My leg was cut a bit, and I wasn't about to race him to the cup. He was right next to it. But he decided to be noble about it. He said I should take it, that I deserved it." He stopped for a second and closed his eyes, "I should have taken it, I should have gone alone."

James let a hand fall over Harry's shoulder. "Gone where?" he asked, trepidation filling his voice tenfold.

"The cup was a portkey. We didn't know it then. I suggested that we take it together, it would have still been a Hogwarts win." He sighed. "But when we touched it, it took us to a graveyard."

This time during the pause, James didn't say anything. He was sure that Harry just needed to get the words out, and then James could make his comments or ask his questions.

Harry seemed grateful for his father's silence. "We weren't sure if it was part of the task or not. But we took our wands out anyway." Harry replayed the scene in his mind, just as he had done before during his dream. "What we didn't do was see Wormtail coming. But we heard it, 'Kill the spare.' Cedric didn't get the chance to do anything before…" he broke off, looking away.

"Hey, it's okay. You didn't know. It's not your fault, Harry." James whispered. He reached up to touch the side of Harry's face and Harry leaned into the touch. "It's not your fault." He repeated.

Sniffing to fight back any more tears, Harry continued his story. He knew that the whole past would come out, and there would be no more secrets left between them soon. "Wormtail tied me up then. He didn't say a word to me, he didn't even seem to want to acknowledge that I was there. I was leaning up against a grave. Voldemort's father."

James was engrossed with the story, and was once again filled with hatred for his former friend. Wormtail had fallen too far for redemption.

"It was a re-birthing ceremony. Bone from his father, flesh of a willing servant…" Harry shuddered, "Wormtail cut his hand off." He whispered. The sight forever embedded in his mind. "And blood from an enemy…me." He finished. It wasn't verbatim, but it was enough to get the idea across.

"Peter took blood from you?" James erupted, loud enough to make Harry jump. Once again, he was thankful for the silencing charms, for he would have woken Ron up for sure.

Breathing harsh from the sudden scare, Harry nodded and pulled up his sleeve. The scar from the cut had never really healed, no matter how much healing from Madame Pomfrey he had received since. It was almost like a curse scar, except it was from what Harry believed to be a normal blade. James grabbed his arm, slightly less than gently, and inspected the cut. There was no knowledge to be gained from it, but Harry allowed his father to do what he wanted.

Placing Harry's arm back down on the bed, James looked up finally. "Keep going."

"Wormtail dropped this – _thing_ – down into the cauldron he had the whole mixture in." Harry continued. The look on James's face clearly indicated that he knew exactly what the thing was. "Yeah, Voldemort. I just sat there with all the other Death Eaters, praying that it would drown. But it didn't. He stood up, a real person again. Well, as close to a person as Voldemort will ever get again."

"You were there with Voldemort himself." James whispered, reeling back. Fourteen…his son was only fourteen. He shouldn't have been there. It seemed so alien, at fourteen, he and the marauders were coming up with ways to skip out of detentions. Harry was figuring out how to survive in a graveyard of Death Eaters and the Dark Lord himself. It wasn't right. It shouldn't have happened.

Harry gave him a sad smile. The smile spoke more than any words could have. Harry was used to it, that wasn't really the trauma of the night. He was almost resigned to having to fight all those obstacles. What else could have happened to allow Harry to think such a thing?

The smile faded, and Harry let the moment of James's revelation slip away with it. "Other things happened. But that's not important. There's really something else, I've wanted to ask you for a while."

Not important? Somehow James didn't find that right. But they would get back to that, he knew they would. "What?"

"My wand and Voldemort's wand, they're brothers. Fawkes was the phoenix feather in both of our wands. They can't fight properly against each other." Harry said, looking intently at his father.

James nodded, "Brother wands aren't meant to fight each other."

"Exactly. They did something, they connected. A gold, um, beam really, came out of each of ours and connected them." Harry said slowly. He paused, as if unsure about whether to continue. But, apprehensively, he did. "And out of the wand came all of Voldemort's recent victims. They're spirits anyway."

"So Cedric?" James asked. That could be a bit worse than just seeing a death, actually seeing the person after. But that didn't quite explain why Harry was staring at him as though waiting for something important. Who else could have come from the wand? It had been inactive for over a decade. Since Voldemort used it to…

Realization dawned on James's face as he stared at Harry. "Cedric, then us?" he asked, his voice a mere croak.

"Cedric, and a old man, a woman – Ministry worker, then you, then Mum." Harry confirmed quietly. "But that didn't make sense. None at all."

James's shocked expression gave way to confusion. "Why not? Your Mum and I did die, even if I'm here now. What's so strange?"

"You don't remember any of this?" Harry asked, tilting his head to the side. His green eyes showed curiosity, and James knew that whatever it was that Harry found strange was big enough to warrant such questions.

Swallowing hard, James shook his head. "No."

"Dad, you came out first. Before Mum. But she died after you. It went in reverse order, you shouldn't have been first. It doesn't make sense." Harry explained slowly. "Unless you didn't die before her."

The magic question. What had happened the night he and Lily had died? What had led up to their deaths? It was a question that needed Peter for an answer. It was a question James himself couldn't help with. It was too much of a blur. Once he and Voldemort had been facing each other…there was just a blank. A blur of time missing, and it was an important chunk at that. "I don't know." He responded.

His son looked like he was going to say more, but James cut him off. "Okay, your mum and I came out of Voldemort's wand. What next?"

Harry didn't seem to want to let the subject change. But he allowed it, the sooner to get their first topic over with, no doubt. "You told me to hang on, and that Mum wanted to talk to me. Then she was there, and she told me that after the connection was broke, you guys would only linger for a few seconds. But it was enough to buy me some time." He sighed, "Cedric asked me to take his body back with him."

"And you broke the connection?" James asked.

"Yes, but I was terrified to. I think, somehow, it's worse now. I was scared then. I mean, the Death Eaters were throwing curses at me, and Voldemort was screaming. I could hardly drag Cedric to the cup, but I did." Green eyes slid out of focus as he spoke. James scooted closer to remind Harry that he was not alone. "But now it's worse. Now it's, surreal almost. Like it didn't happen, it was just a bad dream. Bad dreams fade when you wake up, you forget them and they don't scare you anymore. But this, this isn't going away. Cedric is still dead, and Voldemort is still back. It's not going to fade with time, it's going to be there for the rest of my life."

James couldn't hold back any longer, but held his son again and held the back of Harry's head with his hand. "It will fade, eventually Harry. The fear will go away, and the guilt will too. It will take time, but some of it won't be there forever. I promise you."

"I don't know if I can believe that." Harry whispered.

Smiling sadly, James whispered back. "Then I guess I'll have to stick around to make sure."

Harry laughed in a way that made his father unsure if it was a sob instead. It might have been. But Harry pushed away before he could have been sure.

"There's more."

* * *

_I know you're all probably like "Hey, where's the rest?!" But we all know what happened though the books. So it's not like you need the recap. Don't worry though, James's thoughts on them will come up soon, so you get that. I just didn't want to recap the entire series. _

_If this chapter is a bit of a letdown, then I'm really sorry. Please, review anyway though!_

_**Stars Enchantress**_


	22. Old Hatred Dies Hard

**The Return of the Father: **_Old Hatred Dies Hard_

_

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_

_Thanks for all of the reviews for the last chapter, you guys continue to blow me away._

_Also, most people guess it, I am using JKR's original mistake in the Goblet of Fire, before they fixed it. So, if you have the fixed version, I'm very sorry, but I'm working with the wrong one. I actually didn't realize that it had been fixed until a bunch of you told me. **But anyway, for the record, forget the correction of the mistake. James came out before Lily.** I need it that way. Its kind of key to my plot._

_------------------------------Hogwarts Hallways_

Fourteen. The year of figuring out just how cute girls were, the best ways to sweet talk your way out of detention and how wonderful pranks involving toilets could be. Granted, when James was fourteen, he was also coming up with the idea about becoming an animagus to help his werewolf best friend transform each month in the secret of a supposedly haunted house. But generally, it was still a pretty innocent age.

Fourteen year olds do not fight evil dark lords. They do not fight basilisks in secret chambers. They do not save the Sorcerers Stone. Nor do they have teachers with a vaporous form of a guy who wants all muggles dead on the back of their heads.

But once again, his son defied all known facts of life. It wasn't fair to Harry to have so much dumped on him at such a young age. And the fact that when it was dumped upon him, he could carry the weight…pride inspiring.

James had been pretty sure that he couldn't love his son anymore. But as Harry let out all of his adventures, all his brushes with death and all the horrors he'd seen, James found that he'd been wrong. His son was brave. Sirius had been right, it was amazing how much Harry could face and have the courage to do so.

But even as Harry had talked about his school years, James's anger with Dumbledore had increased tenfold. He'd set it up so that Harry would need to fight the dark lord, ingrained the need to save people, to play the hero. The savior.

"Do watch where you're going, Mr. Potter. Or do you think that the whole castle is yours now that the students are away? Whatever are you doing here in the first place? Did the worship of your aunt and uncle become too much?"

James knew that sneer. He'd bumped into the man, but it appeared that the news of his return from the dead hadn't made it to Severus Snape quite yet.

"I'll bump into whoever the hell I want." James returned haughtily, knowing that an arrogant voice was all that was needed to drive the man insane. How dare a professor treat a student like that? Even if Snape had hated James – with a somewhat good cause – he had no right to take it out on Harry.

Snape sneered again, "Arrogant just like your worthless father." He spat. He started to talk away, but James grabbed his arm.

"What, no hello? I've missed you, Snivellus." James laughed. He hadn't missed the man, not even close. But he'd almost missed the verbal battle that he almost always won. Even though he wasn't fifteen anymore, and the humiliation of Snape that he had caused wasn't something he was really proud of, he couldn't help but pick a fight. Especially if Snape was going to treat Harry that way.

Rage rolled off the man in waves. "You little brat. If this were not summer, I would take off at least fifty points from Gryffindor for that disrespect."

"You can't take points from me, I'm no longer a student." James reminded, looking the man in the eye for the first time since their collision. He could see the disbelief in Snape's obsidian eyes. And this time, anger wasn't too quick to take over.

"James Potter." Severus breathed. James took advantage of the situation, it wasn't every day you saw Severus Snape open mouthed with surprise. In fact, this was the only day.

Grinning, James gave a jovial wave. "Hiya Snivelly!"

Obviously, Dumbledore hadn't gotten around to telling Snape what had happened since he had been away from the castle. And on top of that, he had clearly not seen a newspaper, because he would have known from that also. The story was being plastered left and right. "This is not possible." Snape muttered, "James Potter is long dead."

------------------------------_Outside the Great Hall_

Remus stalked around the castle, looking for either James or Sirius. He'd seen Snape returning from whatever mission Dumbledore had sent him on. And history had taught him enough to know that more than fireworks would occur if they met up. Especially if Severus hadn't been told that James was alive and Sirius was free.

Ahead of him Remus was almost sure that he'd spotted James. "Prongs!" he shouted, and ran forward to catch up with him. James turned around, though it wasn't James at all. Green eyes were laced with amusement as they watched him blush at his own mistake. "Hello there, Harry."

"Remus." Harry returned, laughter creeping into his voice. He appeared to be quite amused by the name mistake.

Remus laughed himself, shaking his head. "We're all going to have to take a good look at one of you before we call out names." He lamented. James and Harry were too close in age and looks to be told apart at a distance. Though, up close, it was easier to tell. Harry's green eyes were often the first thing that people could see, because they were so bright.

"You'll get used to it." Harry assured him. "And I don't think Dad or I are going to mind much."

"You wouldn't have happened to see James, would you?" Remus asked, slightly hesitantly. He knew that Harry wasn't Snape's favorite student by any means. And, in return, Harry didn't like the professor either.

Harry shook his head, "No." he answered. "Why?" he asked, a bit more slowly than last time. With the marauders all reunited, the whole castle was almost holding their breath to see when the first prank would erupt. But, somehow, Remus didn't seem like he would be the one initiate it. Though, with the marauders, caution should be exercised.

As Harry would have to run into Snape eventually, warning him would probably be best. Remus sighed, "Professor Snape has returned to Hogwarts." He said both suggestively and ominously.

"Ahh, yeah, got it." Harry said, nodding slowly. "And you're running around looking for Dad and Sirius to head them off at the pass?"

Remus smiled, "Exactly. Though, I'm also looking for Severus. He should at least be warned." He pointed out, though he sounded sorely tempted to just let him enjoy the shock of seeing a supposedly dead man.

Harry appeared to be thinking along the same lines. "Dad and Sirius are going to prank him to death, aren't they?" He asked. To his credit, Harry did sound a bit worried. But it was more for the fact that Sirius had just been cleared of murder, without adding more to it.

"Especially if you and James have talked." Remus said, staring intently at his surrogate nephew.

Looking down to escape the stare, Harry nodded. "Yeah, I told him everything the other night. He knows all of it." Harry looked back up. "I guess it's better than dancing around the subjects that I haven't covered yet though, right?"

"Much better. Everything is out in the open now." Remus agreed. "But you're still reeling from having to spill all that out?" he asked, understanding more than Harry knew he did.

"A bit." Harry conceded. "He took it pretty well though, considering he might be the only man alive who's son has taken down a basilisk in the last fifty years."

Wincing, Remus added, "You might want to add on a bit more to that number." He advised. Sobering, he continued. "He only took it all hard because he loves you Harry."

"I know. And I only had a hard time telling him because I love him too." Harry answered honestly. Remus smiled and tapped his shoulder.

"Care to help me hunt your father and godfather?" He offered, as both a way to continue talking to Harry and to find Sirius and James. Harry smiled and started talking down the hallway, motioning for Remus to follow.

---------------------------------_ Hogwarts Hallways_

James let the smile fall from his face, "Yes, it is possible. Yes, I was long dead. And Yes, I am back now." He responded, appearing to take at least a little bit of pity on him. But, he covered it up quite well. "So where's my hug?" he asked cheekily.

"I would rather hug a hippogriff." Snape fired back, regaining some of his wit and senses.

Offhandedly, James returned. "I'll ask Sirius to arrange it." James then went on to bigger matters. "Do you enjoy verbally taunting my son? Or was this a one time occasion?" He asked steadily.

The sneer had returned, a sure sign that Snape was recovered. "Mr. Potter is very much like you. Arrogant, believes he is always right, rash, simple-minded, incapable of paying attention…"

James cut him off, not willing to listen to Snape's lies. "That's bullshit and you know it!" He yelled. "You're just bitter that he's my son. Had he been the child of anyone else you'd have no opinion of him."

"Defensive, are we?" Snape icily returned. The look in his eyes almost went past what Harry received, or how he looked upon Sirius. But James was familiar with it, he knew exactly how the man looked at him. And he returned the glare with just as much heat.

"Of my son?" James asked, voice lowering to something akin to a growl, "Yes."

Snape laughed, though it was devoid of any humor. "I'm sure little Harry is so pleased to have his Daddy back so no one can hurt him."

"Harry can take care of himself, not to mention the rest of this castle. Or are you suggesting that you were right behind him when he was stopping Voldemort from getting the Sorcerer's Stone?" James taunted. Snape's sneer became tighter, and James knew that he'd hit at least some kind of point. "But I am here now, and I won't let you keep treating him as though he's me."

The threat was thinly veiled, but Snape understood anyway. He didn't appear worried, and James hadn't expected him to. "What are you going to do, Potter, find your deer friends and have them graze on me?"

James had almost responded, bitingly, but the voice that sounded behind them stopped him.

"Severus, James, I had hoped you could get past your old differences. I see that it was a naïve wish." Dumbledore spoke gravely. "But you will not fight each other as though you were students at this school again."

"Of course, Dumbledore, wouldn't dream of it. Would you like me to promise?" James asked, eyebrow raised and his face half concealed by the darkness of the hallway.

Dumbledore understood the hidden message, and the twinkle in his eyes died down slowly. "Perhaps it is time that you and I had a talk, James."

* * *

_You can see where that's heading off. I hope you all weren't too disappointed with the meeting of James and Snape. Also, a bit of Remus in there for everyone who has been asking after him._

_Also, sorry to everyone who was left a little confused by the last line of chapter twenty-one. It was just meant to show that Harry would be telling James everything. The author's note at the end said that I wouldn't show the rest of the talk though, so if you skipped that then you were probably a little confused. I'm sure you all understand after this chapter though, since I obviously didn't finish the talk, so my whole little note here is a bit unnecessary, but hey, I'm a talker. _

_I've got all this week off from school, so I'm hoping that I'll get some updates up soon. _

_**Stars Enchantress **_


	23. Broken Promises

**The Return of the Father: **_Broken Promises_

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Thanks so much to all of the reviewers. I'm so relieved that you all liked the Snape/James bit, as – once again – it's one of those chapters that you just have to have in a James-Returns story. And on top of that, there was a serious interest in it._

_After you're done reading the chapter, I'd really appreciate it if you could quickly run over to my live journal. I've left a few poll-like questions in the announcement for this chapter, and I'd really like to see what everyone thinks._

_Oh, and to that foolish reviewer that stated they were glad that I stopped doing all that drama…wrong._

_-------------------------------Dumbledore's Office_

James trailed behind Albus as they entered the man's office. Nothing looked different since the last time James had stepped foot in it, nothing at all. His bird, Fawkes, sat on a perch behind his desk - looking just as majestic as ever.

"Take a seat, James." Dumbledore offered as he sat behind his own desk. He started pensively at the James as he sat down in the offered chair. The only difference from the last time that he'd sat there was that Lily and Harry were not in the chair opposite him. The symmetry, however, was not lost on either of them.

The younger man returned the stare, looking just as intently at Dumbledore as the man was of him. "You swore to Lily and I." He stated, this time his voice was not accusing or even disappointed. It was a simple fact he was stating, and that was all he meant it to be.

"I did." Dumbledore returned quietly.

James's mouth opened a little at the honest reply, and he shook his head. Somehow, he didn't want to yell, not yet anyway. James's upper body leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. His hands locked together, and his jaw almost followed suit. "Did you have any intention on keeping the promise?"

"Yes." Dumbledore answered, just as quietly. James almost wanted him to defend himself and yell. This emotionless stating of facts was killing him. "I had every intention of keeping my promise."

Straightening at that, James let his hands drop down between his legs. "Then why didn't you!?" He almost cried out, almost. His voice was certainly not as controlled as before.

Dumbledore sighed, looking every bit of his many years. Behind him, Fawkes watched the entire exchange carefully. "Harry survived because of a protection left on him by Lily. When she died for him, James, she left something powerful behind with him. I cannot explain it. The only way I can is to say that it is a love so deep that it destroyed a man made entirely of hate."

"All right, Harry has a protection left to him by Lily. That's great, that's so utterly Lily it's got to be true. But this has nothing to do with why you left my son with them." James reminded. Then his eyes narrowed. "Unless you thought that because Lily loved him that much, his aunt would at least love him half as much?"

"No, I understood when you said that she did not have any love loss for Lily. And by association, Harry." Dumbledore said heavily. Once the words were out of his mouth, he appeared to have fallen into thought. James waited, letting him think his way through his words at his own pace. After a moment, Dumbledore continued. "Or perhaps I thought that sisterly love could be recovered over tragedy. I might have believed, at the time, that I was giving Petunia Dursley a second chance.

James shook his head at the idealistic thoughts. "You weren't." He answered, "You were just giving her another way to make it worse."

"I know that, now." Dumbledore nodded. "But then I did not believe that you could truly hate someone of your own blood."

"You do now." James surmised. It was clear to see that Harry had caused Dumbledore more than a few sleepless nights. He'd been the cause of more than a few changes in beliefs. James knew how he felt, as Harry had done the same to him from the moment he had been born. "You wanted him to grow up with family?"

Dumbledore nodded, "Yes, partly. But that was not the sole reason, or even the most important one. The protection Lily left Harry is in his blood. Petunia is the only one left – Harry's cousin aside – who carries that blood in her veins."

"So you thought he would be safe with her, with the blood protection still alive and protecting him." James asked, the pieces falling into place. He might hate it, but he could at least begin to understand Dumbledore's reasoning. At least some of it.

"Exactly. I had hoped that his aunt could come to love him, and at the same time, he would be protected." Dumbledore nodded gravely, up and down through the entire response. He looked less worried, as though that now James knew why, it would be okay. But it was not okay, James was not done.

Dumbledore watched him, eyes still guarded. He appeared to be slowly realizing that James was not done.

James struggled with his next question. But when had he ever been hesitant with what he said? He was the one with the right to be angry. "Why didn't you just take him yourself? You're telling me Hogwarts isn't safe enough?"

This seemed to take Dumbledore out of stride, but James didn't pause. "We told you that you could, Albus. We meant that. If Sirius or Remus couldn't raise him, we wanted you to. Why do you think we encouraged him to call you 'Granddad'?"

Memories of baby Harry surfaced painfully to the front of his aged mind as Dumbledore contemplated what James had pointed out. He had been thoroughly shocked when Harry had come out with a baby-speak version of Granddad. And although James and Lily appeared almost equally shocked, they encouraged it from that point on.

The fact that the child had even thought that of him - trusted him enough to bestow such a title on him was beyond what Dumbledore could comprehend. And it only served to grate at his heart to remember the innocent way he spoke it.

James ignored the painful silence that had enveloped the entire room. "We did it so if anything had happened to us, he would know and trust you as though you really were his grandfather. Dumbledore, we told you that you could have raised him yourself. So why in hell didn't you?" James finished, raising his voice. "You just left him there!"

"I did what I thought was right. I could have kept him here, but then he would have grown up with students who idolize him. I did not want him tainted by his own fame." Dumbledore defended gravely, knowing full and well that they were not done.

"Damn it, they locked him a cupboard! They starved him! You're telling me a slight bit of spoiling is worse than that!?" James erupted, leaping to his feet. "You could have made a general announcement, you could have told the students to treat him normally. You didn't even try!"

Dumbledore nearly flinched, but he held back. "I did not know the worst of it until he came to Hogwarts, James."

"So, what, you leave my son on the doorstep of the one family of people we made you promise not to and you don't even check up to see if we were right!?" James yelled. This time, Dumbledore did flinch. He got to his feet also. "He's a child, and then he was just a baby! You can't be telling me you didn't even check on him."

The eruption from James seemed to hurt Dumbledore more than he let on. "Arabella was watching, she lived across the street." He answered, knowing that it just wasn't good enough.

"Arabella? Well, why didn't you say so? She obviously did such a good job!" James returned sarcastically. He knew that it wasn't the time, but that old reflex of lashing out when hurt rose to the surface painfully. "Because, of course she would have known about what went on _inside_ the house. You know, staying across the street would allow one access to that type of information."

"James, I know…" Dumbledore started, another useless apology readied upon his lips. One he knew that would not be accepted, listened to or wanted. One he knew wouldn't be worth anything after the fact. But he still tried, he still started to speak. But James knew what was coming, he knew what Dumbledore wanted to say, he could see it in his eyes.

And all at once, James knew that he didn't want to hear it. "No!" he yelled, almost trembling with anger and that sense of betrayal that ran deep. "You don't get to say sorry and make it all better! This isn't school Dumbledore, I haven't pulled some prank. And this isn't the Order of the Phoenix, where you are the commander of us. Because then, your word was that of Merlin himself. We trusted you unconditionally."

Dumbledore stayed quiet, listening to the condemning words. James lowered his voice, because the force of his words was far more powerful than what would have needed to be screamed. "But Lily and I didn't come to you for that reason. We did not go to Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, leader of the resistance. We went to Albus, a surrogate father and the man that our son called Granddad." His voice dropped again, this time to the barest of whispers. "As the leader of the Phoenix, you did the right thing. You allowed him to stay safe, ready to be trained when he got here. You presented challenges to turn him into the warrior of the light that he was meant to be. You showed him the skills he would need and gave him the tools to use them. You watched up here in your office, when you knew that he was fighting battles you put him up against."

"But as Albus Dumbledore, father and grandfather, you failed." James's voice cracked, showing the depth of his pain. Dumbledore felt a tear leak from his age-old blue eyes. The words that he had pushed from his mind, the truths that attacked him in the middle of the night, fell from the mouth of the one he broke his promise to.

"You allowed him to be told he was a worthless freak. You didn't raise a finger when he was starved and locked in a cupboard. You let him be told lies about his parents, making him wonder if they'd ever even loved him." James whispered, knowing that Dumbledore wouldn't tear his eyes from him. He saw the guard of the powerful man in front of him drop, crumbling around him. It revealed a tired old man, who would have made the wrong choice either way.

James stopped, there wasn't anything else he could say that Dumbledore didn't already know. Because that excuse that he had not known most – if not all – of what was entailed in the sad childhood that Harry had been dealt was no longer valid. And James knew it hadn't been true all along.

Dumbledore didn't try to stop him from speaking, but found that even when he did James's eyes were more than he could take. At the same time, he could not avert his gaze. He'd been faced with more terrible choices than any man should. And whether he truly made the wrong choices would never really be seen. They did not know how it could have gone, if the outcome would have been better or worse on the opposite side.

That entire aside, with one look into James's eyes – the son that he loved as his own – was all he needed to know that he'd failed him. James had come to him to make sure his own child would be protected, and Albus had not done well enough. There wasn't anything he could say that would make it better, and there was no apology that James didn't already know he wanted to say.

James turned, walking away from the standing man. Dumbledore didn't try to stop him. Almost at the door, he did stop. But he did not turn. James stared at the door in front of him, knowing it would be easier than seeing Dumbledore, "I want to say that I forgive you, and I can't help but want to say that I hate you. But neither is true. And I don't know which makes it hurt worse."

He walked out the door, closing it silently behind him. James never saw Dumbledore fall back into the chair. And he never saw the tear track from that single tear being washed away from the others that came after it.

_

* * *

This chapter has been revised and just plain rewritten more times than I want to count. I think I've gotten it to at least relatively close to how I wanted it. I hope it meets up to standard._

_Remember, head over to the livejournal after you've reviewed. _

**_Stars Enchantress_ **


	24. Reflections

**The Return of the Father: **_Reflections_

_

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Hello everyone, thanks so much – once again – to the reviewers. You guys make my day more than you know. Also, special thanks to all of those who helped me out over at the livejournal. The response was generally the same, and went very much how I hoped it would. So thank you all too._

_This chapter is **meanwhile** to the last one. I could have put it in the last one to go with it, but I really wanted that one to stand alone. _

_-------------------------------Hogwarts Hallways_

Harry and Remus had parted ways quite a ways back. Harry hadn't been sure if it was because he looked to be lost in his own thoughts, or Remus was truly sure that they would be better off splitting up. Remus had actually told him he didn't need to keep wandering around, as tracking down James and Sirius before they got to Snape wasn't a real priority, it would just be safer.

The walk gave Harry a good excuse to get lost in thought by himself. Talking with his father, godfather, Remus or his friends was all well and good. And it helped him on top of that, but he needed his own time to just think and help his brain get caught up on recent events.

Truthfully, a part of him was still stuck at that talk with Sirius.

He supposed that he'd always be a bit awestruck by the whole change of events. Grow up like he had, and parents became a pretty novel concept.

They'd gotten through the hard talks, there was nothing left to reveal. And Harry found that he could actually breath deeply again, without those secrets and disappointments looming over his head. It had been hard to just lay down all the facts like that, but in the end he was better for it.

It hadn't been so much that he was afraid of his own fears of reliving those events, but more a deep-seated worry about how his father would respond. It couldn't be easy, having to hear that your son had been locked in a cupboard or had been present at a Dark Lord's rebirth ceremony. Actually, it hadn't been easy actually living those events, but to spill them out to someone one by one. Somehow, it was almost like saying, "Hey, I know you died and all, but I think I'm the one that's really been to hell and back."

His father had cried with him, thrown things and sat there staring at him as though Harry was some form of animal that James wasn't quite sure how to classify. Harry supposed that was probably the case, at least. But it hadn't changed things, not one bit. His father still loved him, and that stayed in his eyes through mentions of the work freak, parseltongue, and Cedric's death.

He shouldn't have doubted his father the way he had, but that was the thing about fear. It was irrational.

He was also getting the impression that love was the same way.

But now that their secrets were out of the way, Harry was excited. Things were going to get easier, more so than they already had been. There was something about James, something that Harry couldn't quite even name. It just felt as though he could tell his father anything. And Harry wasn't sure if it was just that he knew James would do anything for him, or it was something else, something far more important.

Whatever it was, Harry liked it.

Sirius had always been there for him, after he got out of Azkaban of course. And despite the fact that he hadn't really talked to Remus much during the year, he knew that the man was just as there for him as his godfather was. Probably more so, before Sirius was freed, because at least Remus could be seen with him. He could talk to Ron about anything - that was how solid their friendship had become. Hermione, rule breaking aside, was also easy to talk to. There was some sort of sisterly quality about her that was comforting. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley would also periodically make it known that they were also available for advice or other parental things. Talking to Dumbledore was almost like pulling out the big guns, and Harry knew that the man cared about him as more than just a student, no matter what had transpired years before.

And even though he had so many people willing to be there for him, there was something inherently _right_ about talking to James.

It was that type of connection that he had added into his fantasies when he used to dream of that long lost father coming to rescue him from the Dursleys. He had a bit of that with Sirius, and up until he walked into the Hospital Wing, he was convinced that it was the feeling he would have felt if his father were alive.

But the moment that he was pulled into James's arms, crying and relieved at the same time, he knew that wasn't it. Yes, Sirius was like a godfather, brother, uncle and friend all rolled up into one quite confusing mix and he meant the world to Harry. But he wasn't James.

When Harry was little, he daydreamed often about a father and mother of his own. He'd be locked in his little cupboard, and he'd almost will the door to be thrown aside by a man who looked like him, with warm eyes that looked at him with such love. In the daydreams of a child who was too young to understand why his parents weren't with him, there was a man who was big and strong. A man who could easily protect him from Vernon Dursley.

When Harry got older, he realized that his father wasn't ever coming back. And he knew that those fantasies he'd dreamed up to keep himself company in the dark weren't going to come true. He dismissed them and would catch himself before he could imagine a laughing voice telling him it was all right.

And all he could do now was marvel at how those daydreams had proved real. His father was back to save him from the darkness of the Dursleys, his father loved him, and his father was one of the biggest pranksters to walk the halls of Hogwarts.

It was really enough to put a huge silly grin on his face.

But at the same time, it was enough to scare him silly. He wasn't afraid of being rejected or anything like that. His father loved him, and he wasn't dumb enough to downplay that and worry about things he knew wouldn't come to pass.

What he was afraid of was losing his father.

Before, when he was a baby, it hadn't really been that bad. Yes, he was an orphan who dreamed of his parents, but that was just it. He dreamed _of_ parents. He didn't know his own well enough to long for them, or miss them. If someone had to lose their parent, it might as well be when they're young and won't know what they're missing.

But now, Harry would know. He'd know what it was like to have someone all to himself. He'd know what it was like to have your father look at you with eyes so full of pride and love that it could make you dizzy. He'd lose the connection they had, and the ease of conversations.

And he'd know exactly what he lost.

To go back to being an orphan after feeling all those things was just as dizzying as the way James looked at him. A part of him would die with his father if it were to occur a second time. The mere thought caused him to shiver and wrap his arms around himself. And the child in him wanted to cry at the prospect of being trapped alone again.

As much as he firmly wanted to tell himself that it would not happen, the rational part of his mind told him – tried to prepare him – for the fact that it might. It was a worthless and pointless battle, for nothing could really prepare him for his father's death and he knew that.

The shivers crew and Harry knew he needed to get himself away from such dark thoughts. At that very moment, they were safe within the walls of Hogwarts, and nothing could change that. What came later, they would deal with later.

He took a deep breath and leaned himself up against a nearby wall. Next to him was a painting, one that he stared at intently. A fiery background took up much of the massive canvas. Harry was sure that if he were mounted up against the wall at the exact height of the painting then it would go over his head.

In the very back on the left side, a castle stood. It looked eerily liked Hogwarts, and Harry knew it could have very well been true. The castle was old, and who knew what ancient battles it could have seen. Momentarily distracted, Harry smiled as he mused of just how many Hermione knew of.

But he was certain that this was not a real battle. The only two soldiers were a phoenix and a serpent.

The phoenix was a bright red, with gold markings around it's violet eyes. It appeared to be letting out a phoenix call, trilling a song or a battle cry. Of which, Harry did not know.

The serpent's red eyes shined fiercely against it's dark green scales. It was massive, if the other parts of the paintings were correct. The body was half coiled and preparing to strike at the phoenix.

The painting nearly took his breath away, with the imagery it showed.

He reached up and let his hand hover over the phoenix, letting only the tips of his fingers run over it. The second he did a tremor of energy passed through the painting into his hands.

Harry was sure that it had done something to his brain, because as he yanked his hand back, the phoenix took it's harsh violet gaze away from the serpent and directed it towards Harry. He felt his breathing quicken as the figure looked at him, and it almost felt like his mind was being touched. But he felt no different. The feeling was too subtle to explain.

If he thought that he was shocked when the phoenix looked at him, it was really nothing compared to how mixed up he was when it spoke.

Spoke, however, was not an accurate term. Harry had the firm notion that – had there been anyone else in the hall – they would not have heard it. The whispery voice was hard to discern, but he knew it came from his mind.

_"Be careful, warrior, for a new war is about to dawn - a war more brutal than the ones of your fathers. Lose it, and the light fades forever. You are the only one who knows how. You are the only one that can do what needs to be done."_

Harry felt himself nodding, listening to the ancient phoenix's words. It was not done, and Harry continued to listen.

_"With great wars come great heroes. That is a burden you must bear. But to each hero of Hogwarts, help is given. A secret is released, and you now hold the key to it. Tell who you will, warrior, but be wise. **You** are the master now."_

_"Dimicatio Lumen"_

The last words resonated through Harry's mind. The phoenix turned back to it's opponent, and did not move again. The painting did not swing forward, as such password-like words might make it do. But it became transparent. Harry could still see the painting, but he could also see past it.

With a burst of courage – not to mention curiosity – he stepped through the frame of the painting and into the hall that it led to.

The very second that he pulled his second foot through the tapers on the walls lit up and sent a domino effect down the hallway, lighting each one up as it went.

There appeared to be ten rooms on either side of the hall, making twenty in all. Harry didn't have to open any of them to know what he was dealing with.

The phoenix had given him a training ground. A place that no one but him knew of, and a place that he was almost sure would be stocked with all sorts of supplies and materials that he would need to use it.

He'd only spent a moment in his sanctuary, but it was enough. He turned around to see that, from the inside, the painting stayed transparent. He charged through it, intent on finding his friends.

_

* * *

Sorry for the delay, I've had computer problems. I hope you liked this chapter, and that it was believable. Originally it was going to be two separate rooms that Harry found, almost like the Room of Requirement. But then I got the idea to make it a whole wing._

_Let me know what you think, and I hope to hear from you all soon!_

_**Stars Enchantress**_

_(Forgot to mention this - but the password is latin for "Light Battle", I think! I'm sorry if I'm wrong, it was a online translator, and everyone knows about those things!)_


	25. Findings

**The Return of the Father: **_Findings_

_

* * *

_

Hello ladies, gentlemen, and anyone else. Thanks to all of the reviewers.

_I do believe it's that time for question answering again**. Please, read the answers this time, because I keep getting a few questions that I've answered before each time I do this. **You can skip over the ones that you don't need, but please at least read to see if you do need an answer to the question. _

_By the way, this is supposed to be a few days after the last chapter._

_------------------------------Hogwarts –Sanctuary_

Harry had pretty much flown to get Ron and Hermione after he'd found his little hallway. They'd seemed a bit surprised – to say the least – after he'd managed to relay the whole story. But years of being his best friends had conditioned them to just go with it.

That had been three days ago. Now they spent a great deal of their time in what they had dubbed "Sanctuary". The name fit, and there hadn't been a better suggestion.

With each room that they opened, there was something gasp worthy. The first five were just bedrooms. They were done up in different color themes each. One had a whole family of reds, the other blues, greens, silvers, and yellows. The bedrooms contained their own beds, desks, and empty bookshelves. There were various objects and paintings. The paintings, unfortunately, were very tightlipped about previous owners.

The bedrooms were exciting in their own right. Everything in them gave off an air of magic that gave you the shivers when you were to walk in.

These rooms were situated on the left side of the hallway, and started at the very end. When they had opened the sixth door Hermione'd had to be supported by Ron and Harry.

It was a library. One with titles in it that even Hermione had not seen before. They had yet to find a book in it that had been published in the last two centuries. Many were defense books, with curses in them that had been forgotten over time out of respect for human life. There was everything from divination texts, books on strategies, and potion books that Professor Snape would gladly trade his nastiness for.

Hermione was truly beside herself.

One thing that the library had proved was that the rooms were all spelled to take up less space. Because, as the rows of books went farther and farther back, there was no way that the room was that big on the outside.

A room completely made up by magical artifacts followed the library. There were things in there that not even Ron – who had been raised to know things like that – knew of. They tried not to touch the things that they hadn't figured out yet and Hermione spent time researching some of the more lethal-looking objects.

The seventh room on the left side was a potions lab. It was very similar to their own potions lab, with six cauldrons set up with their own desks and countertops. There were a few shelves to house common ingredients, though there were none in the room.

The next room up cleared that up. It was a smaller room filled with potion ingredients. There were shelves of things that Harry hadn't heard of before. Though, he was annoyed to see, there was gillyweed. The room was spelled to keep it's contents fresh. So the centuries old potion ingredients were still as good as they day they were bottled.

One room up was Ron's favorite. It was a room completely dedicated to strategy. Detailed maps of Europe, and every other location in the world, adorned the walls and were piled in the shelves. Tiny figurines were located in drawers, and they magically followed orders to create a simulation of battle plans.

The last room on the left was merely an office. Four desks sat in the middle, all facing each other. Each desk was decorated differently, one with snakes, another with lions, then ravens and then with hedgehogs. They were clearly done in honor of the four houses of the school, and Harry secretly wondered if the founders had ever used them.

One the right side, the first room was a medical wing. Ten beds lined the walls and other medical equipment and tables sat at one end. There was a door that connected the wing to the second room on the right. This was a supply room. It contained both bandages and potions. There were other books on healing for quick reference, instead of running to the library.

Room number three was obviously a training room. It was fairly empty in the center. Along the walls there were cushions and pillows and a few seats. Harry and Ron had been grinning with anticipation for what they could do in there without worry of teachers discovering their activities.

The fourth was a weaponry room. Apparently, when all else failed, they could use swords or any other form of gleaming metal that was available to them now. Hermione had scoffed and called it barbaric, but Ron and Harry felt differently. There were swords, daggers, axes, and even a few maces hanging on the wall.

By the fourteenth room they'd looked at, they were more than a little overwhelmed with the contents of all of the rooms. Which meant that they weren't disappointed in the slightest when room five on the right side turned out to be a sitting room. The room was white when they walked in, with bare furniture and walls. But once they closed the door, it changed. Everything in the room had given off a silvery glow before dimming to show the Gryffindor common room. Now, whenever they walked in, it just seemed as though they were in their own common room, without it needing to change to suit what they wanted.

Whatever reprieve they'd been given with their sitting room, the next room up took away. Harry had been quite confused when he'd first walked in. There were two mirrors per each side of the room. Long mirrors, taller and wider than the Mirror of Erised. But these mirrors didn't show his greatest desire, or even his own reflection.

They showed the castle.

Various areas in the castle were displayed through the mirrors. When you looked into them, they showed you the station that they had been assigned. It was their own surveillance room. From there, they could see the Great Hall, directly outside of the Headmaster's office, outside at all four sides, the dungeons, the hallways in front of the Slytherin and Gryffindor entrances and – most interestingly – a blank wall. Ron had immediately claimed that it had to hide quite a large secret passageway. They checked the Marauder's Map, but it showed nothing irregular about the wall. Either way, they needed a password to get it open, and they did not know what it was.

From their surveillance room, the next room was filled with great long lists. The walls were covered with parchment-like wallpaper. One these were ever changing words. Names really. In alphabetical order, every person in the castle was listed with his or her location next to their name. The teachers were listed in blue, with students in black, and visitors in red. They were amused to see that they were listed as being in "Sanctuary".

The seventh room had been more than confusing for them. For the first two days, they had no idea what to do with it. There were tables, all set up along the walls and in the center. Picture frames with scrolls underneath them lined the tables. But there was nothing in the picture frames and nothing on the scrolls. And somehow, a room dedicated to family pictures wasn't likely to be in a wing dedicated to war preparations.

It had been Ron who had inadvertently figured out the secret of the room. They had spent hours trying to figure out what to do with the room, with no results. And, in frustration, Ron had spat that it was, "Too bad we don't have the great Albus Dumbledore to riddle us the answer to this!"

When Ron had said Dumbledore's name the picture frame's glass had swirled and come up with a picture of the Headmaster. On the scroll, ornate script had appeared and written out "Albus Dumbledore" with "Anxiety – Sadness – Guilt – Arthritis - Itchy Nose" below it.

It appeared that each picture frame gave a current image of the person it was assigned to watch, along with their physical and mental feelings written on the scroll. The spells only responded when the caster loved – or at least cared – about the person they were naming. Which meant that Lucius Malfoy wasn't going to be pictured in the room anytime in the near future. When they figured it out it hadn't taken a long time before Dumbledore was joined by James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Molly Weasley, Arthur Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Fred Weasley, George Weasley, Percy Weasley – albeit grudgingly, Charlie Weasley, Bill Weasley, David Granger and Serena Granger. All with frames to spare.

For kicks, Ron had given Hermione permission to put Lockhart in one of the frames.

The eighth room on the right was another rather shocking room. There were five doorways, parallel to the door that opened into the hallway. Behind the doorways was just open space. Above the first doorway was the same script from the scrolls in the picture frame room, it read "Ministry of Magic". When Harry had opened the door, a completely unfamiliar hallway was what lay on the other side. People rushed past him, not noticing the boy that had just opened a door in the complete center of what had to be the foyer of the Ministry of Magic.

The next door read "Front Steps, Hogwarts", and when opened lead to just there. The other three doors had nothing written above them and opened to nothing but the wall behind them. They were sure that they could set the doors to go to where they wanted, but they hadn't found a way to yet.

The ninth room was their own personal Room of Requirement. Harry had needed to explain it out to Ron and Hermione, after he realized what he was dealing with.

And, in the final room of their secret wing, there were only two things inside. One was a small circular table with intricate wood carvings and designs. It was tall and reached up to one's chest.

On top of it was what Harry and Ron had recognized as a pensieve. What a room like that would accomplish in war was beyond them all, but it was an interesting thing to have.

Their exploration of the wing had been three days beforehand, and now the trio sat in their sitting room thoroughly exhausted.

Harry gave a long stretch from where he lay in front of the fire, the stretch was followed by a moan. From her spot on the couch, Hermione giggled. "Too much cleaning for you, Harry?"

Wondrous things aside, Sanctuary included quite a lot of dust. It obviously hadn't been used in quiet a while. They had needed to clean off quite a bit of it, and mostly without magic. "Well, if someone would quit researching everything under the sun and just found us a book on cleaning charms, we might have been done by now." Harry shot back.

"Why don't _you_ find a book on cleaning charms?" Hermione smoothly countered.

To the left of her sitting in a armchair, Ron snorted. "And enter your domain? No thanks."

"Exactly." Harry agreed empathetically, nodding his head. "You'd kill us if we messed anything up."

Hermione scowled, "I just want to figure out what type of books we have on our hands now." She informed them. "And you could have gone to the actual library."

"Somehow, I'd think that if anyone saw Harry and I with a book on cleaning, it might raise some questions, 'Mione." Ron answered as though he'd already thought of her suggestion and had realized it would not have worked.

Harry agreed with Ron again. "Yeah, we can't let everyone get suspicious." They had already decided to keep everything a secret unless completely necessary to do otherwise.

Another point raised itself in Harry's mind. "But if we're missing for long periods of time it'll look suspicious too. So we'll have to make sure that we let ourselves be seen throughout the day."

"Especially with the twins and three marauders running around at the same time." Ron reminded, sounding as though he were turning a little green at the thought.

Hermione nodded, seemingly surprised that the normally rash boys had put in that much thought on the subject. "Well, at least most of the cleaning is done."

"Yeah, just the room full of the magical artifacts and the green bedroom." Harry responded. "And we should probably leave the first one alone."

"We'd be liable to get our fingers blown off while we dust." Ron added. "Find anything else out about some of the things in there, Hermione?"

A sigh was met with his question. "Not very much. I've been more interested in finding some sort of book that would tell us how to get those doors to take us where we want." She responded.

"Don't stress out over it too much, Hermione." Harry advised. "We have all summer."

Quietly, Hermione continued. "I know, but I want to try and figure out how to make one go to my house. It would be nice to be able to go home on a whim." She was looking down, but the two boys smiled sympathetically anyway.

Harry shifted from his spot on the ground, replaying their progress through his mind. They had each taken on different rooms to clean, starting with the bedrooms that they'd chosen for themselves. Harry had taken the red room, and had almost expected a fight from Ron about it. But the other boy had been drawn to the room done in silvers. Hermione had chosen the room in yellows, leaving the blue and green bedrooms open.

Some of the rooms hadn't required much cleaning, like the training room and the pensieve room. But the library and it's dust books along with the room filled to the brim with weapons that needed to be dealt with carefully had proved to be more challenging. Harry and Ron had come out of the weaponry room covered in little nicks and cuts from sharp blades. But that didn't matter much, as they had a room dedicated to just such occasions. On top of that, it seemed that Ron had a bit of a gift for healing.

"I looked into the pensieve a bit. To see why it might have been placed there." Hermione stated out of the blue. Harry was a little startled, having been pulled out of his thoughts. But he sat up anyway and nodded for her to continue. "The obvious use would be to replay things to see if you had missed something. Get a better look at a room or recall a conversation. It's rather brilliant for getting the details you may have missed." She explained.

The boys watched as she launched into a second purpose. "But, also, when a memory is placed inside, it makes the emotional part just a bit less." She said.

Ron looked confused and asked, "What do you mean? Lessening emotions?"

"Well, think about it this way," Hermione said, leaning forward, "If you were to have been kidnapped, you would be inside the enemy's hideout. You might not notice things being in a predicament like that. But if you put the memory in the pensieve, you could see things over." She explained, using her hands for gestures. It was clear that she'd had a wonderful time researching. "But at the same time, the memories are still in your mind, just as it was without all those added details. But it's less sharp, and the feelings that you have about such a memory would be fuzzier – less intense and clear. Something like a kidnapping would be traumatic, right? So by putting it in a pensieve, you'd still remember, but it wouldn't hurt quite as much. Do you understand?"

Harry nodded, finding this to be quite the useful bit of information. "I get it." He said, just as Ron said another variation of the same thing.

"So that makes sense. If this is all for wars and being apart of them, it's quite possible that someone could have some pretty horrible experiences under their belt." Ron surmised, keeping himself from glancing Harry's way.

They didn't' lapse into silence again, as Hermione wasn't done. With a stern look that would make McGonagall proud, she offered to them something else. "I found a few books on sword training and other such things. If you two insist on learning how, then you can have them. But don't try and teach yourselves with no guidelines."

"We weren't thinking of it." Harry rushed to assure her. "You might consider joining us."

This did not lessen Hermione's glare. "I would rather not, thanks."

"She might feel differently if she saw that sword we found in there." Ron said, leaning over and whispering in a conspiring tone. He was only teasing, as he was well awrae that Hermione could hear him.

Harry grinned as Hermione tried to look bored. They had found a sword in the room that had a swirling pattern cut out of the middle of the blade. Barbaric or not, Hermione would have a hard time saying the sword was ugly.

"All right, so what's left to do?" Harry asked, taking pity on Hermione. Ron sent him a mock glare for changing the subject. But Hermione jumped right in.

Ticking off tasks on her fingers, Hermione summed up what they had left to do. "Well, clean up the green room. But that shouldn't take long at all."

"Especially if you'd just give us a book on cleaning charms." Ron said through the side of his mouth.

Choosing to ignore Ron – which she did a lot – Hermione continued. "Clean the green room, and then we need to research all those things in the artifacts room before we really do much in there."

"Likely to blow us up, some of that stuff!" Ron exclaimed, interrupting Hermione again.

She merely rolled her eyes at the interruption and continued on again. Ron caught the eye roll and smiled, not at all guilty. "We need to figure out those doors too. And of course, finish checking all the subjects of those books. I think we should change the organization of them and put them in categories." She said eagerly.

Ron looked horrified at the prospect of such great amounts of time in a library during the summer. And Harry was right there with him. But he was also aware of what kind of books could be in that library. "What kinds of transfiguration books have you found, Hermione?" he asked slowly.

She looked a little puzzled by his question, but answered anyway. "Well, some really advanced stuff. Certainly nothing that most kids in school would be…able to do." She finished slowly, trailing off. It seemed to dawn on her, the meaning of his question.

Ron looked bad and forth between them, seeing the look on their faces and adopting a confused one of his own. "What are you two talking about?"

"I'll look into it Harry. If a book like that would be anywhere, it'd been in our new library." She assured him. Then, adding a bit more apprehensively, "You could ask your dad." She suggested.

Harry shook his head. "I want to do this on our own."

That got Ron's attention. The pieces fell into place in his mind. The confused look dropped as he nodded resolutely.

With that in place, Harry got to his feet. "All right, let's get back to Gryffindor. I think I need a shower or something. Maybe a dusting. Either would work."

_

* * *

All right, I don't know how good this chapter was, as most of it was spent in describing Sanctuary. I gotta tell you, when I came up for the idea of a secret wing, I figured I should add a lot of rooms. I thought I would be having to choose which ideas were best. When it came down to it, by room fifteen I was at a total loss. _

**_Here we are, questions and answers. There may be quite a bit this time, so you're warned._ **

_**You are aware that James came after Lily with the wands in the fourth book, right?**_

_Some people are still a little confused here, so allow me to clear it up again. I was NOT aware that they had fixed the mistake. In the original additions they had it where James came out first. I wrote my outline operating on the original non-fixed version. It is very key to my plot. So, please, I'm sorry for all the confusion, but Lily came out last._

_**Does James know that Snape is a spy for Dumbledore?**_

_Personally, I always was under the assumption that the Order knew about Snape's spy duties. I was also under the assumption that Peter was not in the Order. I'm pretty much sticking with that, unless I missed a bit in Book 5. So yes, since Lily and James were in the Order, I do think that James knows._

_**Why didn't you show McGonagall meeting James and Sirius again!?**_

_Actually, until some people mentioned it, I hadn't really thought it would be that important. I have been toying with an idea of writing up a missing scene series for this, since I did take stuff out of my outline, because it was just too obscure and people have complained about my slow pace. If I do end up doing that, I will show her meeting them. But until then, sorry you didn't get to see it._

_**What did you mean, James couldn't love his son anymore?**_

_Hmm…well…sorry. The word meshed together. It was supposed to be that he couldn't love him any more than he already did. I think I squashed the any and the more, so it came out wrong. But when I read it back, it sounded right to me since I knew what I meant._

**_Where's Sirius!?_**

_He's around, have no fear. In fact, he makes his return in the next chapter._

**_When is Snape going to get pranked?_**

_Eventually…perhaps…you'll see._

**_Where is Remus? We need more Remus!_**

_Again, he's around. But he doesn't make an appearance next chapter, so don't think that it's Sirius and Remus. Just Sirius. He'll be back eventually. ::Runs to find her outline:: Um, well, don't hold your breath or anything._

**_Have you played the Harry Potter computer game, because there's a spell in that to make the paintings go transparent like in the last chapter? _**

_Really? No, I haven't. I didn't realize._

**_The way you write this almost makes it sound like you've lost a parent of your own. _**

_I was a little surprised by that. But no, I haven't. It's off the top of my head._

**_Does Harry find out what James said to Dumbledore?_**

_Maybe, don't really know._

**_Jeez, layer on the angst why don't you?_**

_::Runs and hides::_

**_How much of Book 5 are you putting in? _**

_A fair bit of it…_

**_Does Harry know of the prophecy?_**

_Nope._

**_Does James ever find out about Harry's patronus?_**

_He knows that Harry can do one, when they talked about Harry's life and such. But I've purposely left it so that James doesn't know what it is. He'll find out eventually._

**_MOST IMPROTANT QUESTIONS – PLEASE READ_**

**_Is this story almost done?_**

_About a fourth of the way, if that gives you an idea. We've got a LONG way to go._

**_Is Lily coming back? _**

_No._

_Please reveiw._

_**Stars Enchantress**_


	26. Mum

**The Return of the Father: **_Mum_

_

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Hello everyone - thanks for the reviews for the last chapters. I see that it was quite riddled with mistakes on my part, but that's what you get for quickly typing a chapter up. All right, so Peter was in the Order, and I was wrong there. Darn, well, I didn't want him to be. Anyway, sorry for that. Hufflepuff house has a badger as the animal, messed up there too. I was thinking that also, but I was thinking "h" for hedgehog and Hufflepuff. Also, a fourth would have made this a hundred chaptered story, and it's not. Somewhere around 60. I can't remember the exact number right now. And, most importantly, there was supposed to be a whole other part in it! I checked my outline to see what this chapter is, and low and behold, the last chapter was missing a whole separate conversation (don't worry about that though, I've added it in a bit later). See? Like I said, that's what I get for just posting the chapter instead of giving it a thorough read over. Sorry for the mistakes, and the blandness of the last chapter. _

_This one is…um, I hope at least…quite angsty. I mean, just look at the chapter title! _

**- Hogwarts**

"Alright, Prongs Junior, out with it." Sirius said, sliding up next to Harry as he walked down the hallway. He sounded casual, but Harry was used to his godfather. Sirius Black was fishing for information.

And Harry wasn't sure as to what information he wanted. "What are you on about, Sirius?" he asked, turning to look at Sirius. His appearance had definitely taken on a more clean nature. His hair was looking far less matted, and was actually looking much closer to the style that Harry had seen pictures of at his parent's wedding. It was still long and hung casually in Sirius's eyes. The clothes were new, and the rest of him wasn't sporting three to ten layers of dirt.

"Come on, Harry, don't try and pull one over on me. You can't do that to a marauder. Especially one who knows you so well." Sirius said, lightly swatting him on his arm.

Harry truly wasn't sure what Sirius wanted, though he did have an idea. "Sirius…just say it." He said with a sigh. He had to come up with a really clever way to dodge Sirius's question if what he thought was coming up did.

"You, Ron and Hermione had been unusually absent as of late." Sirius commented offhandedly. It was meant to say more than it did. And Harry took it that way. Sirius and James had at first thought they were taking some time together to catch up on all that had happened, but there was only so much catching up that the three could do considering that they hadn't really been parted during the whole process of James coming alive again.

"And this concerns you because?" Harry retorted. He had been waiting for someone to up and ask them about their frequent disappearances.

Reaching up to ruffle Harry's wild black hair, Sirius smiled. "Because, Harry, I know you well enough to be worried about your latest…adventure." He told his godson, perfectly truthful.

Harry was going to have to come up with something good and fast. He laughed at Sirius's accurate wording and kept it going a fair bit longer than he would have. He was saved, thankfully, when someone shouted their names. "Sirius! Harry."

Sirius looked a bit put out but turned anyway. Remus was heading towards them at a fast pace. Harry and Sirius traded concerned looks as they saw the werewolf's worried expression come into view.

"Have either of you seen James lately?" Remus asked when he reached them. He sounded as if he'd been running around the castle for a while before he had caught up with them.

Feeling his heart rate pick up slightly, Harry shook his head. Beside him, Sirius did the same. "No, why? He's all right, isn't he Moony?"

"We were talking and I happened to bring up Lily. I really didn't even think about it." Remus explained guiltily. "He laughed with me while I teased at her a bit. But when I finished he got quiet and excused himself, running out of there as fast as he could without looking like he wanted to get away."

Sirius swore and brought a hand up to his eyes. "It's not your fault Moony, sometimes he's fine when we talk about her, other's he's not. It's just going to take time."

"But we should still go find him, right?" Harry asked a bit frantically. He and his father had pretty much stayed away from the topic of his mother with the exception of a few mentions and the night in the Room of Requirement. He knew it was a hard topic for James to talk about, because he missed her so much. And Harry was willing to be that quite a lot of guilt was apart of that too.

Sirius clasped his shoulder gently, hoping to have a calming effect. "Yeah, we should. I think he really needs to start talking about her."

"We can split up and look. We don't find him in two hours, we come back to the Great Hall." Harry said without hesitation, before either Remus or Sirius could speak up and offer an alternative plan.

Seemingly slightly surprised at Harry's quick plan, Remus nodded anyway. "All right."

"I have an idea where he might be." Harry said, running a certain direction. Truth was, he had no idea where James could have gone, though the Room of Requirement and that picnic bench from that first morning came to mind. But Remus might have searched them. No, Harry had a much better way of locating his father.

**-Sanctuary**

Harry spoke the password in a mumbled rush and was already walking away before he had a minute to reflect how unlikely it could have been that the phoenix could have understood him. He raced down the hallway until he reached the room of locations.

Quickly he scanned down the lists to locate his father's name. He was listed as being in the Quidditch stands. Harry almost had to smile, a place so James, but so un-thought of that no one would have checked the stands. A smart place to go when you wanted to be alone, he'd have to remember that.

Rushing out of the castle as quickly as he'd run through it not a moment before, Harry found himself practically running to the Quidditch Pitch to get to his father. He knew that James was still grieving, and that he seemed not to want to share that pain with Harry, but maybe that was what he needed the most. Maybe his father needed to let out all that he was thinking. It had helped Harry with Cedric's death, and it might just help his father.

Bypassing the other House's stands, Harry walked up the stairs to the Gryffindor section. It didn't take long to locate his father sitting on the floor leaning against the walls. His head was in his hands, and Harry could clearly see his shoulders shaking.

Quietly, though he doubted James was much aware of his surroundings right then, Harry approached him. He didn't want to intrude, but he knew his thoughts about opening up were right. Of course, it would come back to haunt him when he had his own problems and horrors to work though, but that didn't matter.

"You had Remus and Sirius worried." Harry said quietly, sitting down next to James. He added, equally as quietly, though twice as firmly, "You had me worried too."

James whipped his head up, surprised that Harry had found him. How hadn't he heard someone walk up next to him and actually sit down? Realizing that there were tears still running down his face, James ducked his head down, taking a few minutes to compose himself. At least, that was what he wanted to do.

Harry reached down and pulled his father's head back up. He looked into James's eyes, trying to make his own as empathetic as he could. "Don't." he whispered. "Just don't."

At a loss as to what to say, James just stared at Harry. So much like his mother, knowing exactly what to do to comfort someone they loved. As many qualities that Harry had gotten from James, there were double from Lily. And he loved that.

Seeing that he had his father's attention, Harry continued. "You can't just run away every time the pain gets too bad. You'll never get better that way."

"When you'd get so smart?" James asked, smiling through his tears. Harry got that wisdom from his mom too, though he didn't remember her. James sniffed at the thought and pushed down the wave of tears that nearly overcame him.

"I'm not all that smart, I just know that it helped me when you made me talk about all that stuff with the third task." Harry said honestly. "I want to help you." He finished, settling himself more comfortably in the small amount of space between the wall and the bottom row of the benches.

James turned away, and this time Harry didn't stop him. It wasn't that James wanted to push Harry away, but he truly didn't think he could make it through a conversation like that without breaking down. He didn't realize that Harry knew that, and that was what he was anticipating. "I don't think it'll go as well as that for me, green eyes."

Undeterred, Harry started the conversation for James. He prayed that he wasn't prying too much. "You miss Mum."

His son's stubbornness made him laugh despite his grief. Another trait from Lily. Technically it could have come from either of them, but they didn't call redheads stubborn for the hell of it. "Yeah, I miss your Mum." He said, hoping to hide his thoughts from Harry.

"What were you and Remus talking about?" Harry asked, pleased that James was letting himself talk. How long would that last, though?

"I was teasing him – again – about being a professor." James explained quietly. Harry smirked, he knew that his favorite teacher was taking a lot of crap from his two best friends about his chosen profession. "His only real defense was that he liked it, and then he mentioned how Lily would have loved it. She always kind of toyed with the idea of taking over for Flitwick should he ever want to retire." He revealed.

Harry felt his mouth drop open. His mum? She'd wanted to be a _teacher_? "Really?" he heard himself ask, though it was probably partly just reflex, as he still felt himself falling into a deep state of shock.

"Really." James answered, this time not laughing at his son's antics. "She would have been great at it. Charms was always her strong point."

The memories and longing for Lily were threatening to overthrow James again. He swallowed and looked away, almost unable to look at his son's green eyes – eyes that he had inherited from his mother. "Dad." Harry said, noticing how James wouldn't look at him. "You can't keep doing this to yourself."

"She should be here, Harry, she should get to meet you. Lily didn't deserve what happened." James said, his voice cracking. He shook his head back and forth as he said, it looking straight ahead. The pain that he felt was something he couldn't and didn't want to describe. It had been ever-present since the moment he had walked into Godric's Hallow. It was the kind of pain that lingered in your every though, and threatened to overthrow you in a second.

"None of us deserved what happened. Not Mum, not you, not me or Sirius or Remus." Harry stated firmly. "And don't you ever say differently."

The fierce sound of his son's voice brought the words through to James. "I know, I do know that. It's just…" James sighed. "If one of us got to come back, I would have chosen her."

"And she would have chosen you." Harry responded easily and without hesitation.

James silently pondered that. He knew it was true, as that was what love was about. But that didn't make the pain any less. "I can almost picture her now, Harry, you and her standing right next to each other. She used to dream about what you would look like when you got older, how you would act. You were everything to her. To both of us."

"You have to let her go, Dad." Harry whispered, fighting back his own tears. He'd spent so many years alone. And most of those years he had spent without even knowing his parent's names. When he was little, he never knew if they loved him or not. He didn't know if they had wanted him, or if they had not really wanted to be parents. When he re-entered the wizarding world, he learned just how much they loved him from other people. But to continue to hear it from his own father would continue to be one of the most powerful things anyone could ever say to him.

"I can't." James whispered, equally as quiet as Harry had been. "I don't want to."

Harry felt his mouth fall into a hard line as he tried to keep his own feelings at bay. "She's gone." Harry said. "And we don't know if she'll ever be back."

"Oh, I know that Harry." James said, looking up. "I know that I can't just sit here thinking that today might be the day that she just falls down in the middle of Godric's Hallow like I did. But I can't help it."

Looking away from his father, Harry stared at the ground. "I can understand that. I think I'll always kind of be expecting that. I mean, we still don't know how you got here, so it could be possible that she might. But at the same time, I don't think she will." He said, trying to articulate his feelings. No easy task.

"Neither do I." James admitted, hating himself for it. "But dear Merlin, Harry, I want her to. I want her to so badly…" He said, breaking off as the lump in his throat closed off his ability to speak. He collapsed into himself, leaning over his legs as the sobs were practically pulled from him.

James thought he heard a soft "Oh Dad…" being whispered, but he wasn't really sure. What he was sure about was when Harry started to hug him.

The boy had only had his arms around James for a second before he turned the hug around, gripping his son tightly. "She loved you so much…you'll never know. You won't ever know." He repeated, his voice choking up again.

Harry didn't know what to say to that. There wasn't anything he could say really…he didn't remember his mother well enough to come up with a statement to counter it. He just sat there, letting his father hold him. As much as he was his own person – and his dad did know that – he was also a part of his parents. In this case, a part of his mother, and James was holding on to him just as much for that reason as his love for Harry.

They stayed like that for a long time. How long, neither of them knew. James was too wrapped up in his tears to be aware of much and Harry was lost in memories and thoughts that he didn't care to voice.

Finally, without letting Harry go, James spoke. "Your Mum was so smart, she was so good with people – and with you. I can't help but wonder if she'd have known what to do with all of this. I don't, Harry. I can pretend I do, I can laugh and smile and act as though the last thirteen years haven't happened. But they have, and I don't know how to deal with that."

Continuing without interruption, James did loosen his grip on Harry. He had the feeling he was nearly suffocating his son. "With everything that happens, I can't help but think that she'd know what to do. She would have been able to figure this out…at least better than me. I've been thrown back into a war that ended and started up again without me. I nod my head as though I understand the chain of events, but every single time, I can only think of the price Lily paid." James explained.

Harry listened eagerly, finally getting the feelings that his father was experiencing told to him. He knew that everything wasn't all right, and Mum wasn't James's entire problem. Now his father was telling him, and he couldn't help but feel proud that his father trusted him enough to tell him what he hadn't told Remus, Sirius and Dumbledore.

"The world's gone on without me in it and I'm still trying to catch up. Sirius and Remus are older, with all sorts of horrible experiences to deal with." James said. He paused for a minute, long enough to make Harry think that he'd stopped talking all together, but he hadn't. "And you." He whispered. "You're so grown up, you're so smart and everything Lily and I wished you would be. And I missed all of it. I missed reading you a bedtime story that you picked out yourself, I missed checking for monsters under your bed, I missed the terrible twos, I missed teaching you to read and write, I missed the cooties and all the friends you could have made, I didn't teach you quidditch and how to fly a broomstick. I wasn't there when you got your Hogwarts letter, or when you wrote letters home to tell us how much you loved it. I wasn't there for you when you had to go through all those awful things."

James swallowed hard, "And I'm here now. I can be there for you, and I can free Sirius. I can tease Remus about being a teacher, and taunt Snape. But she isn't here, Harry. And she deserves to more than I do."

Harry pushed himself away a little bit to look at James. "It's not about who deserves it more."

Ignoring his son's point, James tenderly brushed Harry's bangs away from his forehead. "She would have loved to see you now. When Sirius told me what had happened, how she died for you, I wasn't so much surprised as upset. I knew from the moment you were born that it was a possibility for either of us."

"I want to say that I can let her go, Harry, but I don't think I can." James finished, looking away. He seemed spent and beyond tears.

"She wouldn't want you to hang on like this. She loved you, Dad. I didn't know her, but I do know that. She wouldn't want this for you." Harry insisted. James looked ready to cut in on that, but Harry pressed forward before he could. "I always heard how in love you two were, how wonderful and ideal a family we were. There is no way that Mum would want you to grieve this badly over her. She would want you to let her go, she would want you happy."

James stared hard at his son. The teenager's resolve bled into his own thoughts, and James admitted what he'd known all along. It was just so much harder than it seemed. "I can't promise you anything, green eyes." James vowed. "But I can try."

Harry let out a slight smile, but James couldn't manage as much. There was something different in his eyes though, something Harry could see. And that was enough.

_

* * *

All right, not quite how my mind had it, but I'm posting all the same. Sorry for the long wait, midterms and school got the best of me. February break is coming up in two weeks though, so things are going to calm down. _

_**Stars Enchantress**_

_Coming Soon in The Return of the Father - A Choice _


	27. A Choice

**The Return of the Father: **_A Choice_

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Hello and thank you all for the responses from the last chapter. I thought I'd quickly mention to all those teaser junkies out there, that I do leave at least some teaser over at the LJ, so if you ever just can't wait for info, chances are there's a teaser of sorts there._

_On with the chapter_

_**-Sanctuary-**_

Harry and Ron sat by the fire, each nursing their own wounds from sword practice. As it turned out, it was far harder than they thought. The minor scrapes would need to be taken care of before they left – they were already arousing enough suspicions – but they didn't have the strength to get up.

Hermione, however, was less than sympathetic.

One would have thought that so many books would have made her quite the happy camper. But, this was not the case. Being pulled away from the books that she had been continually pouring over was giving her a bad attitude, along with Ron's theory that so much time away from human life was affecting her socialization skills.

They hadn't spoken much of what Hermione was trying to find in their library, but they all knew what it was. She said that she thought she'd found a section of books that something along those lines would have been in, but they had no way of being sure. It had quickly become apparent that the last person who had filed the books had their very own special system…one that Hermione or any other person wouldn't be able to understand.

So until she found what they were looking for, all three were a bit on edge. Of course, this might have been a contributing factor to the somewhat disastrous practice of weaponry.

"I can try to heal those up, later." Ron offered. He had been interested in healing ever since he and Harry had found out that he appeared to be quite good at it. A talent that would greatly come in handy later on, Harry was sure.

Nodding with no hesitation, Harry agreed. "Sure, that would be good. Can't let everyone see that we're ripped to shreds."

"We could have always said that we had a rough quidditch match or something." Ron said, speculating aloud. They were constantly on guard about keeping their wing a secret. It would be easier when school started, and there would be reasons as to why they stayed away so much. But when it was summer and so few people were around, it was much harder.

Shaking his head, Harry regretfully squashed that idea. "Someone might realize that we hadn't been near the pitch all day." He reminded.

Ron winced when Harry mentioned the flaw, "You're right, mate, it wouldn't work."

"Of course it wouldn't. Short of saying we were in the Chamber of Secrets, which no one could really dispute, we shouldn't make anything up. It's probably best to just continue not saying anything at all." Hermione crisply announced as she strolled into the sitting room. In her arms was a book, but neither boy paid that any mind. It was more unusual to see her without a book than with one.

Clearly teasing, Ron held a hand up. "That's not true, 'Mione. Myrtle could rat on us."

She merely rolled her eyes, not responding to his exception. Instead, she settled herself down in front of the two boys. Her eyes surveyed the nicks and cuts in their arms critically, but otherwise said nothing.

"Pulling yourself out of the library, Hermione?" Harry asked, trying hard not to sound like he was making fun of her. It was hard, to say the least.

Luckily, she didn't seem to mind either way. She nodded, and took a deep breath. "I found the book." She said. "It's all in here, exactly what to do. The publication date is so old that I'm surprised it didn't fall apart. I got the feeling from the tone of the book that transforming yourself into a animagus illegally was frowned upon even then."

Ron stared at the book, and then he swallowed visibly. "And?" he prompted. "Do you think we can do it?" He asked, his voice part excited and part dreading. They were not unaware of the risks that such a choice would make. They knew how dangerous the transformation would be. But they also knew that it would come in handy for them to have a animal form to change into. It was what made the whole thing worth it.

"Did you read it, Hermione?" Harry pressed when she hesitated answering Ron's question. Harry felt that the risks would have to be greater than they imagined to back down from choosing to become animagi, but there was the possibility.

She nodded, albeit reluctantly. "Yes, I read it. Well, most of it. Just enough to get a sense of what this would take, really." She answered after a second.

"So you know what we would have to do?" Harry continued.

Hermione sighed and opened the book. "The summarized version?" She asked rhetorically. "We brew a complicated potion that will give us a…well a hallucination almost. In the throes of this hallucination, we will have our animal counterparts come to us. Once we know what we are, we must create our own personalize spell tailored to ourselves and our animals. We are to do this incantation after brewing a second potion that will help our bodies alter to their second states." She finished, looking up from the book she hadn't really been reading in the first place.

All three stayed silent for a moment. Each was drinking in and assimilating the information they had been told.

After a few minutes, Ron spoke up, his voice thick with some form of shock. "Well, that doesn't sound so bad." He said slowly.

In an uncharacteristic move, Hermione snorted. "Sure it doesn't Ron."

Even Harry winced at Ron's statement. "One, Ron, this includes two potions which Hermione says are very complicated. You and I aren't exactly the best that potions class has to offer." Harry directed to his friend before turning to Hermione who was nodding along in agreement. "You read the potions right?" She nodded, "Is it harder than polyjuice?"

Hermione opened the book again and this time actually read it. "The ingredients are going to be even harder to get. Especially without a potions class to distract. The actual process won't take as long though, but it is very complicated. If we were to get the ingredients, I'd say that the first potion would probably be around the same level as polyjuice, and the second would only be a bit harder."

"So you would be able to brew the potion?" Ron asked, coming back into awareness.

Nodding, Hermione seemed confident. "If I can get the ingredients." She added.

Harry smiled, but Ron didn't. "I hate to bring up the downsides here, but what exactly could go wrong? I mean, we're not going to end up centaurs or anything, right?" He asked nervously. Sadly, it was an all too real possibility.

"There are histories of people who botched the spell or potion who have ended up stuck as the animal they are, or transforming halfway." Hermione quietly said. Harry looked down, taking that in.

As much as Harry wanted to become an animagus, that was a risk to consider, he didn't want to spend the rest of his life an animal or even a half one. Pushing past that, Harry continued. "And the spells? What would those need to be?"

"In Latin, for starters." Hermione said, ignoring Ron's groan. "We would each have to make our own. If the spell isn't right then it could have the same results, or not work at all." She explained. It was clear she'd read the book more than the little bit that she claimed to have read.

"I think we've all got enough of a grasp of Latin to figure them out." Harry mused. "And as long as they feel right to us, they should be fine. I mean, it's supposed to be special to our own person."

Harry had a point, and Ron relaxed as he realized that. They weren't as horrible in Latin as one would think. Even if they were, that was what a dictionary was for. "How long after would we need to say the spell while we transform? I've never seen Sirius use one." Ron asked.

"Just that one time, after that we should be able to do it all on our own, unless our magic isn't that strong." Hermione said, clearly thinking that wouldn't be a problem. And from the look she sent Harry, it was also clear that she believed it would be no such issue for him especially.

Ron turned somewhat hesitantly to Harry. "Are you sure that asking your Dad, Sirius and Remus for tips or something is out of the question?" He asked.

"I want to do this on our own, you know." Harry explained, looking down to his hands. As tempting as asking two people who had already done it for help was, he would rather they prove that it was of their own skills. Somehow, he felt he had to do it alone. "Besides, wouldn't you rather that not too many people know the truth?"

Hermione nodded, "I think we really should keep this to ourselves unless we have to tell people."

Sighing, Ron conceded to both of their points. It really was the best idea to make sure that only the three of them knew the truth. If anything went wrong and they needed help…well, they'd cross that bridge if they came to it.

"So all that this really comes down to is if we honestly think we can do it or not." Harry said, looking at them both in turn and quite seriously. "I for one think we can. But if you guys don't, then say the word and we won't go through with it. Either we do this all together, or not at all."

Ron looked apprehensive as he thought over what Harry had declared. Animagus transformations would be hard, there was no doubt about it. And no matter how confident they were something could go wrong. But the payoff at the end would be huge and all three of them knew that.

Harry watched with baited breath as Hermione and Ron thought things over. It took them a shorter amount of time than he would have thought for them to look back up at him. Hermione nodded resolutely, and Ron smiled.

He knew what they meant. They agreed with him. They were going to do this.

_

* * *

Shorter than normal, but this chapter wasn't meant to be particularly long or angsty. The next one, however, is a different story. I hope you all like what the choice turned out to be!_

_**Stars Enchantress**_

_**Coming Soon**: Chapter Twenty-Eight - The Headmaster_


	28. The Headmaster

**The Return of the Father:**_ The Headmaster_

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Hey all. Thank you so much to the reviewers for last chapter. I'm happy that everyone likes the announcing of chapters titles before they're up. I know that I like that when stories I read have that at the end, so I figured you would all like it. I can't really do that for my other story (Harry Potter and the New Start), as I don't know what the chapter titles will be ahead of time. For your story, however, I know the titles, what happens in them, the whole deal._

_Angst Warning…as if it wouldn't be though!  
_

_**-Hallways of Hogwarts-**_

Harry walked down the deserted hallways to get back to the Gryffindor common room. It was late, and he was most likely the only one still awake. They had started the potion, or really, acquired all of the ingredients. Hermione had been intent on preparing one of them for the night, as it needed twelve hours to air out, or something equally inconvenient. Harry knew that he wouldn't be able to help her much once the potion was started and so he offered to stay behind the extra hour to shave it down into paper-thin strips.

It had taken quite a bit of maneuvering to get the necessary ingredients. Some were in the student stores for advanced potions, which helped a great deal. Others had to be stolen directly from Severus Snape, which proved hazardous. Luckily, with Sirius and James joining forces, all one really had to do was "re-decorate" one of the rooms in the dungeons – namely, affix purple and pink flowers to it's walls – and Snape would be running to hex the two marauders. He was becoming overtly paranoid that the marauders would start up their pranking ways again. This left he and Ron more than enough time after _they_ managed to redecorate to rush into the private potions stores to steal away what they needed.

In addition to the self-satisfying feeling that stealing from the Potions Master right under his abnormally large induced, it was also fun to see the mystified – and truthful – looks that Sirius and James adopted when Snape accused them of the crimes against his dungeons.

Harry was sure that Dumbledore knew it hadn't been James or Sirius, just by the fact his eyes had been twinkling like crazy at the time of Snape's confrontation.

"No, I did not believe your father or godfather were in any way guilty of the…redecoration, you say?"

Whirling around the meet the new, unknown voice, Harry felt the air rush from him. Behind him was Albus Dumbledore, looking as regal as ever in his dark blue robes. "Professor!" Harry gasped, leaning over to catch his breath.

"I am sorry, my dear boy, you were talking to yourself and I could not resist." Dumbledore chuckled, laying a hand on Harry's shoulder once he had righted himself.

Realizing what Dumbledore had said, Harry realized that there were quite a few incriminating things that he had said about other things. What if he'd been talking to himself about that also? As nonchalantly as he could manage, Harry asked, "How long was I talking for?"

"I'm not quite sure, I only happened upon you in the last minute or so." Dumbledore responded, as if he knew exactly why Harry was asking. He didn't press the matter though, for which Harry was profoundly grateful. Though the Headmaster always did let him get away with quite a lot, he still didn't want to jeopardize what they were doing. He would have to be far more aware from then on.

As if reading Harry's thoughts, Dumbledore nodded knowingly. "And what may I ask caused you to be out of bed so late at night?"

"Lost track of time during a visit with Dobby." Harry invented quickly. "It's hard to tear yourself away from so many sweets." He added, knowing the best lies have just a bit of detail in them to seem truthful, but too much and you'd be wrecked. Hopefully, if word ever got back to Dobby, he'd know a cover story when he heard one and would back it up.

Dumbledore chuckled a bit, and Harry remembered his sweet tooth. It was fairly obvious that Dumbledore had a thing for candy. Well, candy and socks. Dumbledore started to walk down the hallway and waved a beckoning hand to Harry. Hesitantly, Harry did as Dumbledore wanted and walked alongside of him.

"Have you and your father been getting along well?" Dumbledore asked, sounding quiet casual. Harry could see that the question wasn't casual though, it had an underlying interest to it.

"That's an understatement." Harry returned, smiling widely to himself. He ducked his head under, for a reason he didn't quite know himself.

Dumbledore didn't seem to mind, however. "I am glad. I had my worries, in the beginning. It's nice to know that they were unfounded." He lightly responded.

"Worries?" Harry asked, fishing a bit.

With a great sigh, Dumbledore reached a hand up to stroke his beard. "You are so very independent, quite used to doing things for yourself, relying on yourself and truly having no one to really answer to." He explained. "And when James…died, he had a son who was barely a year old and depended upon him for everything."

"You thought that it would cause problems." Harry surmised, nodding along with the logic. It was technically solid, even if it didn't end up going that way. "Me being so independent and Dad being so used to the opposite. Like we wouldn't want to give up what we knew."

"Precisely. Perhaps not right the moment you met, but eventually." The older man answered.

Thoughts of his fifth year rang into Harry's mind. "For all we know, it still might." He murmured, shuddering internally. "I don't really think it'll cause that much of a problem though, to tell you the truth." He answered more loudly, for Dumbledore – even though he knew perfectly well that the man had heard the first bit all the same.

"Why do you say that?" Dumbledore inquired mildly. He turned his head to look at Harry, instead of straight ahead as he had before.

Harry found himself ducking his head down again. The blush crept up his cheeks. "Well, you know, Dad is aware that I'm not a year old. And I don't really care either way, since I didn't have him for so long."

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder." Dumbledore mused, sounding pleased, though very serious. "Or, in this case, more tolerant."

Nodding, Harry looked back up. "Something like that." They started walking in silence again. Neither said a word, and both were lost in their own thoughts. Mostly thoughts of James and his return.

A question floated into Harry's thoughts, and he found it too tempting to ask. There was no other person he could ask and get a real answer. Even with Dumbledore there was a chance that his head would get a pat and he would be told not to worry. But Dumbledore was a bit easier to maneuver in this situation, than say, Sirius.

Clearing his throat, Harry questioned, "Sir?"

"Yes, Harry?" Dumbledore returned, sensing the change in conversation. He kept his voice neutral on purpose, and Harry could tell.

Quietly, Harry spoke. "Does Voldemort know my father is alive?" If Dumbledore was surprised, he hid it well. But then, Dumbledore had been through so much that he had to have been half expecting the question at some point in time. If not during their walk, then later on in the summer.

What Harry didn't realize was that, expected or not, it was still a painful question to have to answer. Especially to a boy that he cared for, and one that seemed so very young to him. "You do not need to think of such…" Dumbledore started, only halfheartedly though, he knew Harry would not be put off the course of their conversation.

"Don't." Harry stopped him. His voice wasn't harsh, just tired. "Don't try to tell me it's going to be fine, and you'll take care of it, Headmaster. We know it won't go like that." He ended. His voice dropped lower. "You know that when it comes down to it, I'll be the one to take care of it."

Blue eyes slid shut sadly, but Dumbledore didn't allow himself sadness for long. "I know, Harry, I do know." He returned. After a stretch of silence, he continued. "We have no indication that Voldemort knows of James's return. That can change at any moment, however."

"Would he know from the Ministry?" Harry asked, puzzled about their role in everything.

Dumbledore at least had the good grace to stifle his grin. "They will not be reporting your father's return until…a better time." He responded.

"How'd you managed that? I thought Fudge would have run to the press conference." Harry laughed. He truly could picture it himself. The "Minister" of Magic would do anything to make himself look better.

"I merely convinced him what advantages waiting would have to offer." Dumbledore evenly replied. His voice was matter of fact, as if he'd convinced Fudge that mineral water would be so much better than tap at the next Ministry function.

Harry heard what wasn't there but let it slide. If the man went to the trouble of making up an answer that wasn't quite true, then Harry wouldn't go crushing it. "Fudge won't just go and tell them all of a sudden though, will he?" He asked, searching for a bit of reassurance.

"No, I do not believe he will go behind my back." Dumbledore returned.

Pressing this particular matter, Harry turned to look at him. "But if he _does_?" He asked, his voice ringing with uncertainty. "What would you do then?"

A great sigh escaped the Headmaster again. "I do not know Harry. I cannot foresee events that haven't taken place. We will deal with what arises. Whatever that may be."

"Sorry, Professor. I know you'll do whatever you can. I'm just nervous." Harry answered, feeling himself deflate a little. A hand reached over and laid itself on his shoulder, causing him to look up.

Dumbledore was gazing at him critically. Harry could sense this was of something that didn't quite having anything to do with their conversation. They had stopped walking and stood in the hallway. The windows let in a fair bit of moonlight, even though the full moon was weeks away. The entire hallway was quiet, and Harry was willing to bet anything they were the only ones awake for quite a few hallways down.

Beginning to feel like he was being inspected, Harry shifted nervously from one foot to the other. "Sir?"

"Has your father told you what we discussed a few days ago?" Dumbledore asked quietly. He started walking again, and Harry followed the lead.

"No…I don't remember anything significant." He trailed off. A possibility rang in his mind and was enough to almost stop him in his tracks. "You're not trying to convince him to send me to the Dursleys over the rest of the summer for the warding, are you?" he asked.

The wave of sadness that almost overcame Dumbledore was visible in his eyes, Harry could practically feel it himself. "No, my dear child, you belong with your father."

"Oh, okay." Harry responded, feeling his heartbeat slow down just a bit. "Then, err, what was it?" He asked, almost feeling foolish for jumping to conclusions. He didn't realize that the sadness of Dumbledore had been over how close to the truth he was. In fact, he was only off by years, not by intent.

"You are closer to the truth than you realize." Dumbledore answered. "Are you aware, Harry, that your parents never intended for you to be sent to live with your aunt and uncle?"

Harry could pretty well have guessed that little tidbit himself. The way his father had reacted to the news of his childhood had been enough of a hint for even Dudley and Vernon themselves. "I had guessed." Harry returned levelly and more than a little warily. Where was Dumbledore going with that particular opening?

They traveled in silence again, though a much shorter bout of it than before. Dumbledore appeared to need time to find his wordings. Dumbledore didn't take long to speak again, all things considered. "Your father made me swear to never send you to the Dursleys."

Harry stopped cold in the hallway. The blunt truthfulness of what Dumbledore had said was almost as shocking as the words themselves. What could Dumbledore gain by telling him this? The question seemed to show on his face, because Dumbledore answered it.

"James has…said his piece. I do not know if I will be forgiven, or if I deserve it. I broke a promise to him, a promise that concerned the person he loved the most in the world. And because of this, you have suffered, even though it was never my intention or want." He added, staring so intensely at Harry that the boy almost shivered. "But, in breaking my promise, you were the one who was hurt. I want you to know the truth. And I want you to understand it."

He felt his eyebrows rising in spite of the seriousness of Dumbledore's statement. "You want me to understand?" He repeated. Dumbledore nodded, and at this point they were no longer walking. There was no reason for Harry to turn away.

His thoughts were moving a mile a minute, and one kept returning to the surface. "Did you know?"

"Know?" Dumbledore prompted gently.

Harshly, the words tumbled out of his mouth before he really censored them. Once they were out though, he found he didn't really care. "Did you know my relatives hated me?"

"Lily had told me they were – adverse to magic. I knew that Petunia and Lily had never gotten along." Dumbledore returned. "But I refused to believe that Petunia hated both Lily and magic enough to take it out on an innocent baby."

"You knew there was a possibility then." Harry surmised. "But you decided that pretty little stories about how family always pulls together in the end would be nicer to believe?"

Dumbledore said nothing in return to this. He didn't have anything to say, which left the rest of Harry's question out in the open. He knew his answer.

While Dumbledore had nothing in response to Harry's words. He did have one last thing to add. "If I thought there was another way, a way as safe for you as the wards on Privet Drive, I would have taken you from there instantly. There is more, Harry, but I know that hearing it from me wouldn't be best for you. Your father can help." He said, and turned around. He made a sad retreat down the hallway, in the direction opposite that of the Gryffindor common room. He knew there was nothing left that he could say, and that leaving Harry to James would be best.

Harry stood in the hallway, his own harsh breathing in his ears. He stood there for almost five minutes, letting his mind absorb all of their conversation. But, in the end, he found that it didn't help at all.

The help he needed was help only his father could give.

That thought in mind, Harry rushed the rest of the way to the common room.

_

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_

_Well, the ending didn't quite go as planned, but I was taking long enough with this as it was. I hope you liked the chapter! The next one won't take two weeks to get up, I promise. _

_**Stars Enchantress **_

_Next Up in Return of the Father: Heredity and Legacy_

_(Teasers will be up on my livejournal, for all that want some tidbits!)_


	29. Heredity and Legacy

_**The Return of the Father**: Heredity and Legacy_

_

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Hello, and thank you to all of the reviewers for the last chapter. I'm so sorry for the delay!_

_**-Hogwarts**_

Harry flopped rather ungracefully onto his bed in the Gryffindor Common Room. Ron was off somewhere with his brothers, and his father, Sirius, and Remus were no doubt running off somewhere in the castle. He and Ron had managed to convince James that they really didn't mind if he actually took a bed in "their" room, instead of sleeping on the couch only the morning before.

It had been two days since his nighttime stroll with Dumbledore. He knew that the man was sorry for what had happened, but Harry still felt angry. His father had filled him in on the rest once Harry had walked into the common room looking like he'd just been told someone had died. Of course, in a way, someone had. The image that he'd built up of the infallible and invincible Albus Dumbledore had fallen down around him. It wasn't Dumbledore's fault that Harry, like many others, had put him on a pedestal, but the fall from grace still hurt.

Harry shook his head, breaking away from thoughts that included the words "Dumbledore" and "Dursley". He was more than happy to dwell on things other than that. Far more pleasant things.

The potion for their animagus transformations had been started, and going by the book, it was doing well. Once the idea seemed less foreign and actually possible, he, Hermione and Ron had enthusiastically started dreaming up what their animal forms could be.

Harry honestly wondered if he would end up a stag like his father. While he wouldn't mind, he wanted something completely his own. He and James looked alike enough as people, as animals Harry hoped it wouldn't be the same.

Hermione was still in deep speculation about her own form. She had dreamed up all sorts of intriguing possibilities. Harry and Ron were quite sure she'd end up as some animal that was known as seeming "intelligent".

Ron, unlike Hermione, was sure he would end up something lame. He'd miserably speculated that he would be something dull like a puffskein. Harry felt that he'd end up something loyal. Perhaps even a dog like Sirius.

"Hello? Do I have a son in there or what?" Someone said, tapping him on the side of his leg.

* * *

After a long and confidence filling discussion with Remus and Sirius, James had set out in search of his son. He knew Harry was still somewhat upset over Dumbledore's talk with him. It wasn't easy to be told that he could have had a life with a man that he'd once called "Grandpa" instead of with people who hated him.

James had been furious with Dumbledore when he heard from Harry that the man had taken it upon himself to seek out Harry's forgiveness as well as his own. If he was going to do a thing like that, he should have warned James first so he could have been better prepared for explaining it out to his distraught son.

That was when he'd gotten it into his head to show Harry what he did have. He knew his son still found his presence there unreal at times. Living at Hogwarts didn't help things. It had been his original intention to find a new house for the two of them, give Harry a home outside of the castle walls. But two things stopped him.

The first being Voldemort. He was taking no chances with his son's safety. The safest place for the two of them was to stay right where he was.

But secondly, he was hoping to find a way for Dumbledore to allow him his own quarters in Hogwarts. He wanted to stay close by to Harry during the school year, both for safety, but also because he just didn't feel ready to be like all of the other parents and send his kid on the train and then go home to wait for a letter. He'd rather stay right there in Hogwarts. Pathetic and needy as it was, he was going to be trying his hardest to secure he and Harry quarters in Hogwarts before the summer was over.

He offhandedly announced the password to the Fat Lady, who seemed a bit put out by his lack of flirting, and headed up to the dormitories. He was hoping that Harry would enjoy his plan. They would have to leave the safety of Hogwarts, but they were trading it's wards with a different home's ones, so there would be no problems.

He opened the door to the dorms that the boys had chosen and called, "Harry? You here?" He received no response, though Ron had assured him that Harry had been there only twenty minutes ago, and James had already been all over the castle so Harry couldn't have been there. Of course, his son did have the tendency to disappear quite a bit these days, it was almost always with Ron and Hermione, and he'd seen them both on his way to Gryffindor tower.

"Green eyes, hello?" James asked again. For confirmation purposes, he went to check Harry's bed. And, as luck would have it, Harry was lying on his bed. The far away look in his eyes certainly explained the lack of response. "Harry?"

Finally, he could take no more, he sat down on the bed and less than gently tapped Harry's leg.

Harry shot up at the new voice. Of course, it was only his amused looking father, sitting on the side of his bed. "You scared me!" He accused.

"Sorry, I wouldn't have if you answered the first twenty times though." James teased, apologizing half-heartedly. He was hardly exaggerating the twenty times part though. When Harry went under in thoughts, he really fell deep. You needed fireworks to snap him back into reality. "So what's the cause of these pensive thoughts that have you so distracted?" he asked before allowing his concern to show. "Everything's okay, right?"

Sitting up straighter, Harry nodded. "Nothing big, I didn't mean to ignore you, sorry."

"No problem." James forgave. He watched Harry closely, without realizing he was probably staring at his son. Harry fidgeted under the intense gaze.

After a second, Harry had obviously decided he could take no more. "Dad?"

James shook himself from his musings. "Sorry, green eyes, I was just thinking." He said, running a hand in his hair to mess it up. Sirius teased him for the habit often, but to James it was hardly even conscious.

"About?" Harry prompted, visibly relaxing once his father's gaze toned down a bit. He leaned back against his pillows, the vision of relaxation. James smiled internally, he was ecstatic they were close enough that Harry could relax in his presence.

"Oh…nothing really." James said, laying back on the bed and staring at the ceiling. He sent a sidelong glance to Harry. The boy narrowed his eyes at his father's too causal voice. Harry was really starting to know him too well. "Just a trip, nothing big."

The response was inevitable. "What?" Harry said, perking up with interest. "What kind of trip, Dad?" He scooted down the bed to James and looked down at him.

Waving a hand, James pretended to dismiss the entire thing. "You know me, always coming up with crazy ideas."

"I want to hear this crazy idea!" Harry cried, one step away from begging. It felt good to see the normally serious Harry acting a bit more his age. There were some moments when Sirius and James felt like he was the adult and they were the children. But as more time went on, they noticed that he wasn't quite as quiet or reserved as he was at the start of the summer. It was fairly obvious that Harry would always be shy and quieter than some people, but it was still good that he was letting go a little.

It was good that he trusted James enough to do such a thing.

Giving up on being casual about it, James sat up. "Why don't we make it a surprise?" he asked. There really wasn't any way for Harry to argue out of that, but James phrased it a question all the same.

Knowing it was going to be a surprise no matter what arguments he put up, Harry nodded. "Are we going now?" he asked, standing to grab his shoes, though he paused and waited for James to answer him.

"Yep, if you don't mind." James asked, standing also. He was already set to go. He watched Harry shake his head and pull his shoes on from the floor. Once his son straightened up he added. "Since you can't apparate, we're flooing."

Harry winced and turned a bit green. James, agreeing completely with him, nodded sympathetically. "You too, hu?"

_**-Surprise Location-**_

James fell from the floo, managing to stay on his feet only though years of careful practice. He glanced around the room that they had landed in, expecting dirt and grime. He expected years of un-use to show on its walls and furniture.

He was quite surprised to see the exact opposite.

The family sitting room was more than clean - it sparkled. Apparently, the house elves had really been keeping up their work over the years. They must have spent years hoping against hope that Harry would make his way to the manor again.

James was pulled from his musings when the floo flared to life again and his son came tumbling out of it. "Easy there, green eyes." James said quietly as he helped Harry stand up straight again. He brushed the soot from Harry's clothes and hair then looked down to see that he needed a bit of brushing himself.

"Wow, this is…" Harry started, looking around while James cleaned himself up a bit. "Where are we?" he asked, choosing to leave his half finished sentence alone.

Smiling, James looked back up at Harry. He was happy to see the awed expression on Harry's face. To him it was home, but to Harry, it was an unknown – unreal – place. "We, my dear son, are at the Potter family Manor." James announced, spreading his arms wide.

At first Harry seemed to take the words at face value. An ancestral home that all Potters used at some point for vacations and such. But then the deeper meaning of what James had said appeared to dawn on him. James watched the emotions and thoughts play over Harry's face and in his eyes.

Harry had realized that this had been James's home. This was where he'd grown up, where his grandparents had lived. This was a home. This was the Potter home.

Armed and dazed with the revelations, Harry said nothing but chose to turn back around and study the room with that much more interest. James watched him, let him walk around and touch his hands all over the room and its contents. He felt himself again filling up with love for his only child, his own emotions again threatening to overthrow his control.

He was saved, however, from the urge to rush up and hold his son, when a quiet but audible _pop_ sounded.

"Master James, Master James, you is returned!"

James smiled at Harry's startled expression before turning to look down at the little being in front of him. This elf was just as he remembered him, from when he was only a little boy. "Hello, Dell." James greeted happily as he knelt to the same height as the house elf.

"Dell was hoping Master James would come back someday, but never in his wildest dreams did he actually believe it would happen!" Dell cried, brimming with both tears and happiness. He threw himself on James and allowed himself a good minute of sobs and hugs before pulling himself back, a bit more composed. "Dell is being very happy to see Master James."

"And Master James is being very happy to see Dell. Though he is rather annoyed that Dell is calling him 'Master' again." James said good-naturedly. Harry, James noticed, watched the exchange curiously.

Dell smiled, not at all upset over the teasing. "Is Master James needing something?" He asked. James was slightly surprised that the elf believed him so easily. But then, Dell had known him since infancy, so it really wasn't that hard to believe that he would know James from someone else easily.

"No, we're good. Just giving a bit of a tour." James said, nodding his head to Harry who still watched them quietly.

The house elf finally realized the presence of someone else in the room. He stared at Harry, huge eyes even bigger. The house elf stared at Harry for so long that the teenager started to fidget. "Little Master is in Potter Manor." He whispered in awe.

Before Dell could attack the already nervous Harry, James redirected the conversation. He had a lot he wanted to show Harry, and it wouldn't do if he son was too nervous to listen and walk. "Dell, Harry and I are going to be hanging out around here for a while. I'll let you know when we'll be eating lunch, all right?"

Dell must have understood what James was trying to do, because he composed himself rather quickly. Silently, he gave a bow to both father and son, before snapping out of the room.

Standing up, James turned himself back at Harry. "I suppose you've figured out a bit more, then, right?" he asked, smiling. Harry nodded, smiling back hesitantly.

"I thought you might like to see the Manor. Or at least get out of Hogwarts for the day." He explained. In truth, those two reasons applied to them both. He was starting to go stir crazy in the castle, and he knew that Harry had to feel the same way. Sirius wasn't doing quite as badly, however, and James had the strong suspicion that it was only because he was fairly used to being locked up.

This time, Harry appeared to have recovered enough for words. "Yeah, I did want to get out for a little while at least." He turned around and continued to look at the room they were in. It actually looked a bit like the Gryffindor common room. Though this was slightly less worn, and slightly more formal. "This is the living room?"

"The private living room. There's one other that's for when you're having a dinner party with non-family or friends." James explained, the explanations coming out easily.

Harry looked more than surprised by that, and James was again struck by how little Harry knew of his own family. He was used to hearing that he wasn't worth a thing and was almost too expensive to keep. The reality of the situation was that Harry was a Potter, which translated out to rich powerful wizarding family. The Potters had investments in places that Harry would go wide-eyed over, more money than almost any other wizarding family and a last name that commanded respect.

Though, through the time that he had been gone, the name Potter had only one person continuing it. Harry had most likely thought that the last name of Potter was famous merely because he was the boy who lived. This wasn't entirely the case, for Potters had been around almost as long as magic.

"Why don't I show you my old room. Think you'll find it…amusing." James offered. "But, um, just don't touch anything that seems strange, okay?" He added as an afterthought, frowning a bit. The last thing he wanted was to turn Harry blue or something. At least, not unless it was entirely intentional.

Harry laughed, a sound that James was coming to love. "Don't worry, I know enough about Fred and George's room to know that you tread lightly when entering a prankster's territory." He assured his father as they walked down the hallways.

The familiar corridor brought back memories of a large family full of cousins, aunts, uncles and grandparents. James had been an only child, as had his mother. But his father had been one of five, all of which had children. But James's father being the oldest, and James being his only son, the family power and fortune was left to him.

Though that didn't change the lasting feeling of laughter and family that was in the halls.

The Potters weren't like the Blacks or Malfoys. They weren't self-centered and oriented in the dark. They were a close family, and always had been. The way James had grown up was very different from the way that Sirius had.

"Dad, are you all right?"

His son's quiet but concerned voice rang in James's thoughts. He turned to Harry and realized that he'd gone quite a while ago. They were actually very close to his room, and James saw that his feet had been walking of their own accord. "Lost in thought. It's been a while since I was last here." He explained, though Harry had probably figured that out a while. "Actually, it's been a while since _you_ were here." He said, sending a sidelong glance to Harry.

"When did I ever come here?" Harry asked, surprised.

Snorting, James waved his hands. "A hundred times before my parents were killed." He said, dismissively. It was true, as annual trips to the Potter household with Lily and baby Harry had been commonplace per week.

"Really?" Harry asked, sounding interested. James smiled to him and nodded. Of course, Harry knew nothing of his grandparents. How would he?

"Of course, we brought you here all the time. My mother spoiled you rotten." James remembered with a bittersweet smile. How he wished that his parents could see their little grandson all grown up.

Harry smiled, seemingly pleased with the idea of doting grandparents. Before he had the chance to ask anything else, they reached his old room. The wooden door didn't reveal how many times it had been magically repaired after accidental – and occasionally intentional – explosions, but James knew it was quite the number. With no hesitation, James pushed the door open.

Non-surprisingly, the room was exactly as it had been when he moved out to live in a flat with Sirius after graduation. It was a big room, more than large enough for a teenage boy. The room was decidedly Gryffindor, with the scarlets and golds that made up the color scheme. Old school books lined the shelves, along with notebooks labeled as class notes but truly contained pranking ideas.

"You were pretty sure you'd end up a Gryffindor, hu?" Harry asked from his side. He sounded amused by the complete lack of any other color in the room.

James frowned. "What kind of question is that? Of course I knew I would be a Gryffindor, all Potters are. Actually, we occasionally get a Ravenclaw, but generally, we're Gryffindors." James explained to Harry, choosing to ignore the indulgent smiles coming from his son. It was as though James was completely clueless, but Harry found it endearing or something.

"And if I was a Slytherin?" Harry asked, treading on dangerous ground. He had walked a bit around the room, and was peering onto his father's old desk.

Quickly, James scanned his mind to see if he should yank Harry away from the furniture, but when nothing registered in his mind as dangerous, he focused himself back on the question at hand. "If you were a Slytherin?" He repeated, skeptical. "Um…I'd love you anyway?" he finished.

This seemed to be enough for Harry, who just laughed. Abruptly, however, the laughter cut off. James was about to ask what was wrong, but Harry spoke first. " Is this them?"

James knew who he was referring to without going to look at the picture that Harry had found. His parents were most likely smiling and waving up at their grandson through the gold picture frame that was on his desk. Sighing, James nodded, though Harry's back was turned to him. "Yes, those are my parents. Your grandparents."

"What…" Harry trailed off, his voice tight, "What were their names?" he asked finally, after getting his voice under control.

Moving closer to Harry, James let his hand drop onto Harry's shoulder. He didn't look down at the picture, in fact, he didn't need to. Their smiling faces were etched in his mind, right next to the image of their unseeing eyes as they lay dead. "My mother was Sara, and my father was Jack."

Harry said nothing for a few seconds, and James understood his silence. This was the first time he would have ever heard of his grandparents. It meant more to Harry than James could probably even fathom.

"What were they like?" Was the meek sounding question directed to him.

James smiled sadly as he considered his answer. "My mum, she had a wicked sense of humor. She's where I got my prankster sense from. When I was little, she would play pranks on my father or her sisters, using me as a diversion." He laughed internally, simply remembering. "She was one of those people who didn't need words, she could just look at you, and your whole world would seem less dark."

Gently, James took the picture from Harry's hands and set it back down on the desk. He steered his son to the bed, and sat down next to him. Without missing a beat, he kept talking. "My father, on the other hand, wasn't quite so humorous." James lamented with a smile. "He had a sense of humor, don't get me wrong. But he tended to stay away from practical jokes. He let her go to town with it though, because it made her smile. She could have lit his head on fire, but as long as she smiled and laughed as she did it, it would have been all right with him. I think I always admired that about him, how completely devoted he was to her."

"And I knew them?" Harry asked, after he had absorbed what James had said. James didn't really even know where to begin, if he were to try to guess what Harry was feeling. Usually it was so easy to guess, because of his eyes and the way emotion reflected in them.

This time, however, as he looked into his son's emerald eyes, he saw so many different things clouding them, he could scarcely determine what was what.

Answering the question, James repeated some of what he'd said before. "You knew them. They came and saw you right off when you were born. I think they were more than a little excited, being that you were their first – and as it turns out, only – grandchild."

"You don't have any brothers or sisters?" Harry asked, sounding genuinely curious. James mildly wondered if he was remembering Lily's sister, his awful aunt Petunia.

Shaking his head, James confirmed the negative. "No, Sirius and Remus are the closest thing I've got to brothers." He responded truthfully. "I did have cousins though."

Harry seemed surprised to hear that. Then again, he'd been told that all of the Potters were dead, save him. No doubt he was wondering if Dumbledore had been telling the truth, for he could have conveniently said there were no cousins of James left just so he would have no other option than Petunia. "What happened to them?" he questioned.

"Most were killed." James lamented quietly. "I wasn't the only Potter who fought Voldemort." A bittersweet smile fell across James's face. "We were making quite a dent in Death Eaters, I have no doubts that Voldemort considered our whole bloodline a thorn in his side."

His son nodded, "You said that you were always on his hit list." He remembered. James nodded along with him.

Continuing on, James finished out his list of relatives. "Whoever remains, that I know of anyway, would have been either too distant a relation, or not that close to me to start with."

"So we are really the last Potters." Harry surmised. Of course, they'd really only gone in a circle with that. At least, however, Harry wasn't the only Potter anymore, he had James again. They could be the only ones together.

"Exactly." James stated. He lay back down on the bed, looking at the ceiling. The cracks were all the same as they had been twenty years ago, though to James it was more like three or four years.

In his study of the ceiling, James almost missed Harry's quiet question. "How did they die?"

James felt the air rush from his lungs, in one big rush as the words registered in his head. He had known Harry would ask, but it still startled him.

Harry must have seen the look on his face, because backtracked as quickly as possible. "You don't have to say, Dad, don't worry about it." He said, shaking his head.

They'd really already started though. He couldn't do details - that he knew. The deaths of his parents would always be too painful for that. But James knew that Harry wanted to know at least something. "Death Eaters." He said, as if it explained everything.

In this case, it did.

Harry stretched out next to him and nodded. "All right." He said, not pushing the issue.

"They loved you to death, you know." James said. He watched Harry's expression brighten, something he far preferred to seeing Harry sad. "Like I said, they were going to spoil you rotten."

They both laughed, quietly talking about James's family, a family that Harry had never known existed. James told stories, and Harry listened attentively.

By the time the sun had gone down, they were still curled up on the bed, laughing.

_

* * *

All right, that wasn't exactly what I had in mind. This chapter took forever, but I'm sure you're all well aware of it. I am very sorry! But, here it is, ten pages of James's POV._

_Let me know what you think!_

_**Stars Enchantress**_

_**Coming Up:** The Return of the Father – The Danger of Life_


	30. The Danger of Life

_**The Return of the Father: **The Danger of Life_

_

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Hello all, thank you very much for the reviews for the last chapter._

_-Italics mean dreams-_

_**Headmaster's Office – Midnight**_

Why he felt a sense of urgency to report to the Headmaster was truly beyond him. Why he kept up his quick pace towards the gargoyles merely to shout out an inane password and report what he knew of the Dark Lord instead of going down to his peaceful dungeons was a question he would ask himself for hours to come.

Contemplations aside, why he was rushing to the headmaster had the same answer that it had always had.

This was his job, this was what he had signed up for the day he'd rejoined the light.

Though, all things considered, eternal damnation for evil deeds done under a mask and dark robe was certainly sounding favorable to giving out information to help a man he despised.

To Severus Snape, James Potter was a pathetic excuse of a human being. What someone like Lily Evans had ever seen in him was beyond even an intelligent man's comprehension. A vapid girl, who required nothing more than good looks and quidditch skills from her boyfriend, would have been far more suited for James Potter than Lily.

However, past was past and Severus wished to keep things in the timeline which they were meant to be.

He would have been perfectly content to hate Potter's memory and taunt his son for the rest of his life. Or the rest of Potter's life, which ever lasted longer – as at this point, neither his nor the great Harry Potter's life expectancies were looking very promising.

It would have been a perfectly dark life, something that suited him fine. Yet fate – or the Devil himself – had conspired against him again.

To say he'd been shocked to see Potter walking about as infuriating and full of himself as before his _unfortunate_ demise was an understatement the likes of which could only be met by saying that Potter and the Dark Lord were truly good friends who enjoyed playing dress up and having the occasional sleep over. There were few times in his life that Severus could remember being truly shocked speechless, but that moment – and quite a few that had followed – had been the top of the list.

He had mistaken the man for his son, an honest mistake when one took into consideration how close the two were in looks, along with the fact that James Potter had supposedly been buried over a decade prior. When that nickname that Black and Potter had given him in their schooldays fell from the man's lips, he'd been ready to smack the "child". He wouldn't have, of course, for no matter how much he disliked a student he would never hit them, but he'd never been more sorely tempted.

It had become increasingly obvious after that about the identity of the Potter he had been speaking to. After that, logic did not matter, for he'd known without a shadow of a doubt that James Potter had returned to flesh again.

Charming.

Severus snapped free of his musings when he realized he'd been staring at Dumbledore's stone gargoyle for what could have been an embarrassing amount of time. "Earwax flavored Every Flavor Beans." He spat, cursing the blue-eyed Headmaster yet again for forcing him to utter such passwords. In fact, Severus had been convinced for years that Albus set such passwords just to give himself and the staff the chance to see him make a fool of himself by speaking of different types of candies.

Nevertheless, the gargoyle sprang aside and the staircase was free for him to race up.

Without knocking, for he knew it was trivial as the Headmaster was always ready on the nights when he'd been summoned, Severus rushed into the room.

"Severus, you're back." Albus acknowledged quietly, with the slightest relieved tone underlying his words. Anymore and he would have irritated the Potions Master, a fact which Dumbledore had become increasingly aware of as the years had gone by. "I trust you are well?"

Not "How did the meeting go?" or "What did Voldemort have to say?"

It was always "Are you all right?" or "I trust you are well?"

And for that alone, Severus' questions from earlier as to why he was rushing to report back to the man who'd been his mentor for years became glaringly obvious. The answer was always Albus. It was to him that Severus' allegiance was. It was to him that Severus had run to when he'd been a broken young man desperate for a way out of the horrifying life he'd chosen. And, most importantly, it was him who had accepted Severus back to the side of the light with – literally – open arms.

For all of that, he would forever remain loyal to Albus Dumbledore.

"Yes, I crossed the apparation barriers a few moments ago." He said, and added a nod to answer the question that Dumbledore had posed. He was never one for acknowledging his physical – or emotional – state, whether it be good, bad or near death.

The older man motioned with his hand for Severus to sit, and he did so gratefully. "You were not gone too long, my boy, am I right in thinking this was a meeting merely to check progress rather than issue new orders?"

Sighing, for he knew that Albus would be upset when he heard what the meeting had truly been over, Severus shook his head. "Word has reached Voldemort of Potter's return from the dead."

As he'd feared, Dumbledore's eyes closed sadly for a moment. Severus allowed him the few seconds to gather himself. Though Dumbledore did not like the new development, it was not a shocking one in the slightest. It had strictly been only a matter of time before Voldemort had been informed of the eldest Potter's return.

Dumbledore's eyes opened, and Severus saw no sadness in them. He saw, only, tired resolve. "We must summon James."

_**Remus's Room**_

"Oh come on, Moony, admit it, Prongs is right. You were the one to think up how to turn McGonagall's hair purple!" Sirius cried indigently.

The three marauders and their junior member – namely Harry – sat on the floor around the fire in Remus's room. Each were quite awake, and less than willing to go to sleep.

Remus, who sat currently between both Harry and Sirius in their little circle, blushed and pushed his nose up a bit. "I most certainly did not!" he called back.

The mere tone of his voice caused James to break out into laughter, which sent Harry spiraling after him. Sirius, at seeing his godson and best friend howling, started laughing himself. Remus watched them all with a mock stern expression, or at least, tired to. They were just too happy, and having too much fun sitting and just talking.

This was exactly what they'd all longed for and dreamed of for years.

The stern teacher expression of Remus's gave way to humbling chuckles after only a half-hearted attempt to stall it. James and Sirius were having good fun teasing Remus over his job of being a professor. Harry had joined in cautiously, only once he was sure Remus wouldn't remember it during the school year when he was grading essays and such.

Remus, however, wanted his revenge. And currently, Harry was the easiest target. Once the laughter had died down enough to get a few words in and not get drowned out, Remus slyly turned to Harry. "You know, this is pretty late for little Pronglets to be out of bed."

Harry's mouth dropped in indigent horror. "Remus!" he cried, realizing all at once he would be the new prey for the marauders. They really were a tricky group.

Opposite him, Sirius realized exactly what Remus was doing. James, however, was gazing critically at both Harry and the clock, realizing that he was the parent and should, therefore, enforce bedtimes.

"Yeah, you are right, Moony, Harry's looking a little tired." Sirius said, shaking his head in a sad-like expression. He appeared to be the epitome of godfatherly concern. "It would be a real bummer if Ron and the other Weasley boys wanted to play quidditch and you were too wiped to join them tomorrow, Harry."

This seemed to spur James on. "Yes, Remus and Sirius are right, Harry, you really should get to bed." He said tentatively, for he'd never done anything like that before. It wasn't often one had to argue bedtime with a one year old who didn't know much English – or words for that matter.

"I'm almost fifteen, you can't regulate my bedtime!" Harry pointed out loudly.

James opened his mouth to rebuke this, but was halted by a new voice in the room. The fireplace held the aged face of Albus Dumbledore, head floating eerily in the flames. "James, I must speak with you." He said gravely.

Whatever teasing mood that had been apart of the room only seconds before vanished at a speed that left Harry disoriented. He didn't understand how the three men could change their moods so quickly. Remus, Sirius and James didn't notice the almost dazed expression on Harry's face because they were looking at Dumbledore. The Headmaster, though, had caught it.

"Albus, what's wrong?" James asked, all at once forgetting that he was technically angry with Dumbledore.

"Has Voldemort done something?" Sirius added, picking up directly where James had left off without missing a beat. Beside him, Remus stayed quiet, but looked intently at the Headmaster.

Shaking his head ever so slightly, Dumbledore waved away their questions. "Floo up to my office, James. We need to speak. Remus and Sirius may join us." He added, knowing they would come anyway.

"We'll be right up." James promised as Harry nodded. Though they'd missed his confusion before, the three men did see Harry nod with them. James shook his head at his son. "No, green eyes, you stay here."

Harry turned to James, looking shocked his father that his father planned to keep him out of the loop. "I want to come with you." He said.

"Stay here in Remus's room, try to get some sleep okay?" James said gently as they all stood up. He could see that Harry looked a little upset with him. "We'll be back soon." He added, though he wasn't sure of it.

Shaking his head, Harry tried to protest again. "You want me to sleep?" he asked, sounding a bit skeptical that it was even possible. "Dad, I want to go with you, it might be about Voldemort…"

"If it is, I'll tell you what we talked about, okay?" James promised to Harry truthfully. If what Dumbledore wanted to talk about was horrible, he would much rather be able to listen himself and find a way to soften the blow before Harry heard. Irrational and overprotective as it was, it was the only way James felt he could help right then.

Harry seemingly understood what James was trying to do and saw that his father did mean to tell him of the meeting when they returned. It wasn't what he wanted, but it was better than if his father had just patted him on the head and told him to go to sleep as though he was five. Nodding, admitting defeat, Harry sat back down.

James smiled at Harry tightly, and flooed up to Dumbledore with Remus and Sirius.

_**Dumbledore's Office**_

The fire roared to life as the final Marauder stepped out. Remus dusted his robes off, glancing up to see why everyone wasn't starting. Once his eyes met the scene in front of him, he had to suppress a groan.

Sirius and James stood ahead of him, each of them glaring at Severus Snape, who glared just as heatedly back. He had the distinct feeling he would be asking Madame Pomfrey for a headache-relieving potion before the night was out.

Dumbledore sat back down at the desk, looking every bit his considerable age. "Sit down, everyone." He said, giving a sweeping hand gesture at the three extra chairs in front of his desk.

Idly, James wondered about the chairs. There was only ever one in front of the desk, but more had magically just been there every time all of the marauders had needed to be brought up during school after a particularly spectacular prank. Either it was magic or Dumbledore had a closet somewhere with an impressive amount of chairs in it. "Dumbledore, what's this about?" he asked, pulling himself from his absurd chair musings.

"And what's _he_ doing here?" Sirius snarled with thinly veiled dislike of Severus. He said the word "he" as though it was quite the stretch.

If there was ever a time when Dumbledore was willing to put up with the school time rivalry between the Marauders and Severus less, then Remus didn't remember it.

Dumbledore looked at each of them in turn, and then stated in a voice that booked no arguments, "You'll treat each other civilly. Anyone who cannot behave themselves will be asked to leave." He finished, sending Sirius a rather pointed gaze. For his credit, Sirius did nothing. Finally, Dumbledore turned the gaze away from them, "Sit down." He repeated.

Reluctantly, and most likely only because they'd been yelled at, the Marauders sat down. Sirius, in one last stand of defiance, picked his chair up and purposefully moved it just a bit father away from Snape's. If the Potions Master was offended, however, it did not show on his face.

"James, you may or may not remember, but Severus is a spy for me. He is no longer a death eater." Dumbledore started, though he was sure that James did remember that bit of information. It was quite a large sore spot for the elder Potter.

If there was one thing that James didn't want to be reminded of, it was that he and Severus Snape were on the same side of _anything_. Either way, he evenly nodded his head.

"After Voldemort's fall, Severus did not reveal his loyalties to the light, so that when Voldemort returned, he would be able to continue his spying duties." Dumbledore explained. If at all possible, opposite him Severus's mouth went into an even harder line. McGonagall would be hard pressed to match it.

Though James and Remus had nothing to say, Sirius couldn't stop himself. "So what, when Voldemort called, Snape went running?" He snorted. "No surprise there." He muttered under his breath.

"Sirius." Dumbledore almost barked. Sirius's head snapped up and looked at the headmaster instantly. "You might be interested in what Severus has to report."

All eyes shifted to Severus, who was starting to look decidedly uncomfortable about it for the briefest of seconds. After gathering his cold mask of indifference, Severus replied emotionlessly, "The Dark Lord has been informed of Potter's return." Then, needlessly, "He is quite upset."

"No, really?" James asked sarcastically. "And here I thought he'd welcome me back, considering how many years I spent at the top of his hit list."

"James, that will not help the situation in the slightest." Dumbledore quietly admonished. It would have been a full on rebuke if he hadn't seen the spark of fear grace the younger hazel eyes for a second. Though, the fear wasn't for James, judging from the way he glanced back at the fireplace. It was for Harry.

Remus had also seen the way James glanced at the fireplace. Quietly, he whispered, "Harry's fine in my rooms. Most likely asleep by now. You don't have to worry James."

Breaking eye contact from the way back down to his son, James looked Remus square in the eye. "Yes, I do." He said slowly.

Whatever moment James was taking to calm his fears for his son, Severus shattered with his sneer. "Potter junior should be just fine if he manages to stay put and stop playing the hero for once." He scoffed, "And that should be so much easier now that his Daddy has returned to arrogantly swoop in to save the day just as he did twenty years ago."

"If I remember correctly," James shot back angrily, leaning over his seat and half of Sirius', " – if I hadn't 'arrogantly swooped in to save the day' back in school you would have been mauled because of your own idiot whims and the need to ruin Remus!"

Practically seething, Severus leaned and venomously returned, "And whose fault was it that I knew how to do so?"

"This isn't getting us anywhere." Remus loudly interrupted. "James, get back in your seat. Sirius, don't you even think about it. And Severus, tell us what you heard from Voldemort."

All three of the men complied instantly. They even looked a little embarrassed with themselves. At Remus's side, James muttered, "Yes, sir, Mr. Professor sir."

Choosing to ignore James, which often proved to be the best course possible, Remus turned to Snape. "Continue."

Grudgingly, Severus continued his story. "The newspapers didn't help much, but I think at first the Dark Lord didn't believe them. The prophet is so unreliable as of late."

"You can say that again." Sirius interrupted. "Though, this would be considered a bit more, um…_sensational_…than their normal garbage." He stated, deep in memories of the horrible stories printed in the Prophet about both he and Harry. That newspaper wasn't worth anything anymore. Sadly, however, the whole wizarding world seemed to follow it.

Shooting Sirius a look, Severus continued without comment. It would be far easier to ignore the mutt and waste time and have to stay in his and Potter's presence even longer. The air was beginning to reek as it was. "Apparently, Lucius was sent to investigate in the ministry. Use his pull to get information." He continued. "When Lucius could provide solid Ministry proof of both Potter's return and that Black had indeed been acquitted."

"And Peter, what did he have to say?" Sirius growled. This time, Remus or Dumbledore did not admonish him, for they too were interested. James fought the tightening in his chest that the mere name of his former friend caused.

Even Severus could join in on the Marauder's dislike of Peter Pettigrew. "He looked rather, ill, shall we say? When Voldemort made the announcement to the Death Eaters as a whole, he whimpered."

"Fear of Merlin's probably in him." Remus breathed out.

Beside him, James's jaw tightened. "With good reason." Hatred laced his voice in the extreme. The depth of it had been in no one else's voice, not even Sirius's. The thoughts of what his wife and son had gone through because of the rat's betrayal still cut deep in James.

They all fell silent, tired and worried about what happened next. Dumbledore allowed them only a few moments to gather their thoughts and wits after the reveal of Severus's information. Breaking the silence, he asked of James, "Do you know what this means, James?"

"The same thing it did before, Dumbledore. Be careful, stay in Hogwarts, don't take risks, and think before I act." James replied. "I have been through this before, you know."

Sirius winced at the way James spoke. His voice was monotone, and he knew James was doing it on purpose. He hated that this was happening to James and Harry again. He hated that there was little to nothing he could do. Death Eaters he could handle. Sirius Black was an ace at taking out Death Eaters. But Voldemort himself?

There wasn't a damn thing he could do against Voldemort.

Helplessness was not a feeling that anyone enjoyed, particularly not Sirius. Without looking over to James he let his hand slide over and quickly grasp James's. He gave his best friend's hand a gentle squeeze of reassurance before letting go.

James smiled at Sirius tiredly. Whispering, he said "Thanks."

_**Remus's Room**_

Harry wasn't sleeping as peacefully as James had hoped he would. Had James been there, he would have been quite upset to see his son trapped in a nightmare.

"_Ron, did Hermione say when she wanted us in the library?" Harry asked as he sent his best friend a sidelong glance. He and Ron had just left the common room. _

_Beside him, Ron shook his head. "Nah, Harry, she doesn't want you in the library, she wants me." He said, his voice not at all mean or angry. He didn't sound surprised at all that their best friend was excluding Harry purposefully. _

"_Why just you?" he questioned, worry tingeing his voice. Had he done something to make Hermione mad? _

_Ron shrugged, "Dunno." He said, speeding up ahead of Harry. "See you later, Harry!" _

"_Bye." Harry echoed quietly. Still slightly confused, Harry walked down the hallway by himself, going the opposite direction of the library. Before he'd even turned the corner, however, his thoughts were on something entirely new. Things in his head were a jumble. _

_Ahead of him, Harry spotted his father. He started to run to catch up to him, but no matter how fast he ran, his father seemed just out of reach and always ahead of him. James turned down a corridor and as Harry followed, he connected with something quite solid. _

"_Oomph." He grunted, falling to the ground. Looking up, he saw who he'd run into. _

_A dark shape loomed above him. It's robes were pure black, and the hood was pulled up so far that Harry couldn't see anything inside of them. A fear that he'd never known before welled up inside of him, and he tried to scoot back, still on the floor. _

_If the shape wanted him though, he didn't acknowledge it. After less than a minute of standing over Harry the being turned and walked down the hallway. Harry watched its cloak actually touch along the ground, taking away any thoughts he'd had of a dark spirit. _

_James was still ahead of them in the corridor, and knew nothing of what went on behind him. The being silently continued on, following James's path down the hallway. _

"_Dad!" Harry cried, feeling suddenly very alone. He wanted his father to turn around and come to him, but he didn't. James just kept walking and behind him, the specter like person followed. _

_Harry got up from his spot on the floor and ran frantically down the hallway. Why was that thing following his father? He raced down the hallway after James, actually gaining ground this time. It was nowhere near enough though, and Harry had no hope of reaching them. They turned the corner again, and Harry lost sight of them for only a moment. _

_He too reached the end and turned around the corner too, expecting a new hallway. Instead, it was a short little walk to a door. It was really only fifteen feet of hallway before it stopped. Had he ever been to this hall before? Harry didn't think so, but he wracked his brain anyway to think of any occasion. _

_Taking a tentative step forward into the empty stretch of stone, Harry realized that in his wonder of finding the door, he'd lost his father. There was only one place for him to have gone though, and that was ahead of him and through the wooden door that looked painfully out of place in the old style castle. _

_Before Harry's hand could connect with the doorknob, a pain-filled scream echoed through the entire area. _

_Where had it come from? Behind the door? Harry couldn't tell. It seemed so close, yet so achingly far away. _

"_Harry!" A voice called. This was most certainly from behind the door. And it was more certainly his father. _

"_Dad?" Harry yelled, banging his fist on the door when the knob wouldn't turn to let him through. He had to save his father. _

_He had to get through the door._

_**Albus's Office**_

James listened halfheartedly to the chatter of Remus and Dumbledore as they planned both offensive and defensive moves against Voldemort. Usually, this was something he participated in to the extreme. He was known for coming up with plans of attack that even Mad Eye Moody could respect and follow.

Tonight, however, he couldn't even focus long enough to hear someone else's plan of attack.

His mind wasn't on the present conversation, but rather the one that had come before it. He'd known it was only a matter of time before his presence was known to the whole world and confirmed, but it still seemed so soon. Especially for Voldemort and Peter to know the truth.

James didn't know which was worse.

He didn't care to spend enough time thinking on it to answer that though. In fact, had it just been him alone, he wouldn't care half as much. What he did care about, what made finding out that Voldemort knew of him again all the more worse, was that he didn't want to have to tell Harry.

His son would be heartbroken to know that there was a possibility of losing him all over again.

"You want me to go check on him?" Sirius said from his side. When Sirius had sat back down instead of standing right next to Dumbledore's desk to help with planning James didn't know. He had to have been pretty out of it to not notice someone walking right up to him. He would have to be more aware than that.

Looking up, James smiled gratefully. He had to stay, even if he wasn't really paying attention. Sirius, though, could slip out for a bit to see Harry. "Could you, Padfoot?" he asked, knowing the answer.

"Of course." Sirius replied easily. "He's fine, James, but I figure if you had confirmation on that, you might be able to think strategy for more than oh, two seconds?"

The teasing made James crack another smile. He ducked his head down, pretending to be embarrassed at being caught. Sirius lightly smacked his head as he walked over to the floo.

"Remus Lupin's room!" He called as he threw the powder down into the emerald flames. He was instantly sucked into the floo network, a sensation that he handled far better than his godson did.

The trip ended quickly, most likely because he didn't have far to go. He stepped out of the hearth, and once no godsons rushed up to him, he knew that Harry was asleep. He didn't get close enough to the bed to see, before a frantic yell rang through the formerly silent room.

"_Dad! No!"_

_

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There we go, all done. I hope you liked the chapter, the Snape POV part in particular. Let me know what you thought about that, in addition to the rest of the chapter, of course. I really did enjoy writing Snape though, it was pretty fun. I'm sorry for the wait! The stupid CAPT tests they make you take if you're a sophomore in Connecticut high schools to graduate are, thankfully, over now. This means things won't be as crazy as school (though it will be a bummer to go back to forty-five minute classes again though!)._

_Enough of my babble! Thanks again to the reviewers, and to the lurkers, who continue to read this story. I appreciate the patience! _

_**Stars Enchantress**_

_Next Up in Return of the Father: _**Godfathers and God Awful Hallucinations**


	31. Godfathers and God Awful Hallucinations

_**The Return of the Father: **Godfathers and God Awful Hallucinations_

_

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Hello everyone. Thank you so much to all of the reviewers! You make this story worth writing! This one is for everyone who's been wondering if I'd forgotten all about the animagus transformations!_

_**--------------------------------- Remus's Room**_

_The trip ended quickly, most likely because he didn't have far to go. He stepped out of the hearth, and once no godsons rushed up to him, he knew that Harry was asleep. He didn't get close enough to the bed to see, before a frantic yell rang through the formerly silent room._

"_Dad! No!"_

Sirius was shocked to hear his godson scream like that. He stood there, dumbly staring at the thrashing form on Remus's couch, too surprised to even think as to what he should have done. Harry's next scream, another plea for his father, startled Sirius back into awareness.

He rushed to the side of the couch and sat down on it next to Harry. His godson's arms hit against the air around him and Sirius quickly grabbed his wrist firmly but gently at the same time, to stop him from hurting Sirius or himself.

"Harry? Harry, can you hear me?" Sirius called, using his grip on Harry's wrists to shake him a bit, hopefully the shake that would be able to rouse him from whatever nightmare he was experiencing.

Sirius prayed it would, he couldn't take seeing his godson so upset.

Nothing happened for a moment, and Sirius kept shaking Harry. Again, Harry yelled, "Dad! Please, I'm coming." He called out frantically, sounding close to tears, "I can't get it open!"

"Harry! Open your eyes, nothings wrong, James is fine!" Sirius reassured him, "Your dad is okay, it's all okay. Open your eyes, Harry." He said, raising his voice to hopefully reach the terrified teenager.

Suddenly, shocking Sirius, Harry's eyes snapped open and he threw his whole body forward. His wide green eyes darted around the room, searching for some unknown assailant. He panted heavily and seemed to be trembling even more violently.

His godson awake, Sirius wasted no time in pulling the boy into his arms. "Harry, the dream is over, don't be afraid." He whispered, hoping a soothing voice would calm Harry that much quicker.

He heard his godson sniffle seemed to be having a hard time keeping tears from leaking from his eyes. Without pushing himself out of the warmth of Sirius's arms, Harry whispered with a voice hoarse from yelling, "Where's my Dad?"

"He's upstairs with Moony and Dumbledore." Sirius responded equally as quietly, "He sent me down to check on you. He's fine." He assured Harry, knowing that hearing that the dream was nothing but a dream and that his father was safe and sound would help more than anything else.

Harry was no stranger to nightmares, but that didn't mean that they hurt him any less than they would any one else.

Harry took a few more minutes to get himself under control and calm his racing heart before pushing away from Sirius to wipe his eyes. Sirius let him go, but kept a hand on his shoulder for added support. "Better?"

"I'm sorry." Harry replied quietly, sidestepping Sirius's question intentionally or without realizing but doing so either way. Sirius couldn't tell if Harry had meant to do it or not.

Either way, there was a statement to be addressed, "You have nothing to be sorry for." Sirius said, using his forefinger to gently force Harry's chin back up when he would have ducked his face down. "You can't help nightmares."

"Well, no, I can't." Harry conceded when it seemed that Sirius would accept no less. "But I am sorry for worrying you." He added in a rush before Sirius could cut him off. No matter how much his mind was accepting that there wasn't anything he could do to really anger Sirius and James, he still didn't want to do anything that could potentially get them mad at him.

Aware of that, Sirius let it slide. He, James and even Remus were waiting for the day when Harry would just accept comfort and concern without feeling bad for causing them to give it. "Do you want to tell me what that dream was about?" he asked slowly.

Harry shook his head quickly. He swallowed thickly as the memories of his nightmare threatened to swamp him again. "No." he said, his voice going raspy.

Sighing, Sirius laid a hand on the top of Harry's unruly hair. "Why not?" he asked, hoping to convince Harry to talk about whatever he had dreamed.

Harry was too quick to dismiss things that upset him to other people. Sirius knew how much James hated that, and how hard he was working to change it.

"I just don't." Appeared to be the best that Harry had. It was just about as lame as when a parent answered their child's question with "Just because." And Harry knew it. Groaning at the conversation to come, Harry leaned back against the couch. "It was about Dad." He started.

Sirius quirked an eyebrow, "I hadn't guessed." He dryly inserted.

Turning a mock glare at his godfather, Harry wondered how fast their moods had changed. Was it because he wasn't trapped in a nightmare anymore, or they were both at ease with each other enough to know that things would be all right for a bit?

Pushing those thoughts from his mind, for he knew there would be no answer, Harry focused on retelling his dream without breaking down again.

Quietly, he explained the strange conversation he'd had with Ron, and how he hadn't really been worried about it after the initial shock. He went on to explain the strange specter following his father, and the door that he couldn't open. He talked of the scream, and his own irrational need to get that door open. "I don't know what was happening, I just knew it was bad. I had to get in there, but the door wouldn't let me though, something was stopping me." He finished, wiping at his eyes. He had impressed himself, his eyes had only welled up when the desperation and terror from the dream had reemerged.

Through the whole tale, Sirius listened without interruption. His silvery blue eyes were focused on Harry and he fought the urge to give his godson another hug, as he wasn't sure that Harry would accept it right then. When Harry finished, though, he settled for laying a hand on top of Harry's head. "It was only a dream." He reminded. "James is fine. There's no strange shadows following him around, and there's no doors here that will let him in and keep you out."

"Who knows with this castle?" Harry muttered under his breath, though Sirius had caught it if the quirking of his lips were any indication. Pressing on, Harry raised his voice. "What if it wasn't just a door? What if it was like…" he trailed off, unsure of what he meant.

Finishing where Harry had left off, Sirius continued, "A metaphorical door?" he asked. When Harry nodded his head, Sirius rolled his eyes, "For a tired teenager you're going pretty deep considering it's the middle of the night."

"You know what I mean, Padfoot." Harry responded, biting his lip in worry.

Seeing that it wasn't the time for jokes, Sirius swiped a finger at Harry's lip to stop him from biting it. "I know." He said, "I just think that you were upset because of Dumbledore, and you had a nightmare about not being able to find or help your father because of it." Watching Harry intently, Sirius added steadily, "Don't overanalyze every aspect of dreams, Harry, you'll only run yourself ragged with worry."

Harry looked away as he absorbed Sirius's little bit of advice. He knew the dream was nothing more than that, but it didn't help the fear of losing his father. It was a fear that practically haunted him. He had longed for parents his whole life. He had dreamed up a wonderful mother and father who loved him. Now that he had James, he knew that the real thing was a thousand times better than any dream though. He didn't want to lose that.

He was terrified to lose that.

"James is fine, Harry, do you want me to get him?" Sirius offered, seeing the look of despair on Harry's face.

Quickly, Harry shook his head. "No." He said in a rush. "In fact, could you promise not to tell him about me having a nightmare about him?" Harry pleaded, though trying desperately not to sound like it.

Seeing through his godson's weak attempt of being casual about his request, Sirius narrowed his eyes a bit. "Why?" he asked, though he suspected he knew the answer.

"Well, I just don't want him to worry." Harry said, ducking his head under a bit. "He'll feel bad that I had a nightmare."

Sirius's face softened at the way Harry's voice sounded. At times, Harry really could make himself sound like a lost little boy, most of the time without realizing or meaning to. "He wouldn't be mad, Harry. He would want to help you."

"I don't need help." Harry denied. "You did just fine and now I'm over it. It was just a nightmare. Please, don't dredge it up to Dad?" he asked again.

Hard pressed to deny his godson anything he wanted, Sirius found himself nodding that he wouldn't say anything. Harry's face brightened considerably. Backtracking a bit, Sirius added in his own condition. "But I want you to promise that you'll consider telling James about it."

"Sure." Harry agreed easily. Mentally, he considered it for a few seconds before throwing the idea out the window. Sirius could practically see it on his face and before he could say something about it, Harry rushed to add, "What were you guys talking about upstairs?"

That effectively pushed Sirius off of his course of thought. "Um…" he started rather pathetically.

"Dad said he'd tell me." Harry reminded in a singsong voice. With the way Sirius was acting, though, he wasn't quite sure he wanted to know. Pushing all apprehension aside, he built up a bit of resolve so Sirius couldn't claim that he was too upset still to handle it or something. He had to hear this, whatever it was. Harry knew it was going to be important.

Sirius had nothing left to do but answer Harry's question. As though the words were being pulled from him, Sirius said, "Voldemort knows that your Dad is alive."

Frowning, Harry was confused. "But wouldn't he know from the papers? They've been saying it for a while now." He felt guilty, because up until then, Voldemort hadn't been the foremost thought of his mind. He was afraid of what the…_man_ might do to his father or anyone else he loved. Now though, knowing that Voldemort _knew_ his dad was alive, it made it real.

"That only planted a seed of doubt." Sirius explained, sounding pained. "The prophet isn't known for it's, um, reliability. Now, though, Malfoy has gone through the ministry and come up with enough evidence to prove it's true."

Yes, the fear was real now all right. Harry felt his heart clench. "So…" he tried. "So what do we do now?"

Sirius looked at him sadly, and Harry knew that all of his fear must have been coming through pretty well in his eyes. He wasn't the only one afraid though, Sirius was too. Harry could see it plain as day in his godfather's eyes. That'd didn't bode well. Not at all.

He was right though. Sirius was afraid, and not just for James. He was afraid for Harry. Losing his father as a baby hadn't so much hurt Harry as rather setting him up for a hard life. Now, though, Harry knew James. He loved James himself, rather than the idea of him.

He knew it would kill his godson to lose his father again.

"Now?" he asked, wishing that Harry were a little boy again so he could brush it off. He couldn't though. He didn't agree with Dumbledore keeping Harry in the dark about so many things that Sirius felt he needed to know. Or rather, _deserved_ to know. "Now we know why Voldemort hasn't been causing any trouble for us." He said quietly. Ever so gently, he reached up and let his hands frame both sides of Harry's face. "Harry, now that he knows for sure, there's a very real possibility that the presence of two Potters, Dumbledore and I in Hogwarts will be too good an opportunity to pass up. He wants us all, and now that want is even more intensified. James was _supposed_ to die, he _did_ die. Voldemort isn't going to take kindly to him walking around as if it never happened."

Harry felt his insides turn to ice. "But…but, he always wanted us. Why is now any different, he'll never come to the castle. Never, not with Dumbledore…" He babbled, and it was meaningless, he knew it.

"Harry, Snape reported that Voldemort is planning something. An attack. It might be on us, it might be the ministry or it might be muggles." He said, as if any one of those options were acceptable. They weren't, and both Harry and Sirius knew it. "But Harry, if he called a meeting pretty much solely to inform the Death Eaters about James…it's probably us that the attack is going to be against."

That last sentence cemented his fears. The information was hard to swallow. How could things go so quickly? One day they were fine, the next an attack by the world's worst wizard was being mounted against them. Grasping at straws, Harry questioned whatever he could. "No…you don't know. Snape…" he weakly trailed off when Sirius shook his head.

"Snape is a spy. He has been since around when your parents were married." Sirius said, old antagonistic bitterness at his rival rising up in his voice. Leave it to Sirius to manage to sneak in hatred for a school-time enemy in a conversation like the one they were having.

Sirius's hands slowly fell away from Harry's face as the boy looked down. He didn't know what to do. Bringing forth the only reassurance he had, he pulled Harry into his arms, ending the conversation the same way that they'd started it practically. "Dumbledore and Remus are working out defenses and counter-attacks. We'll be okay, you'll see. Things will be just fine. We've beaten the Death Eaters before. Things are going to be just fine."

Harry wished he could believe him.

_**------------------------------Sanctuary – Next Day**_

"Bloody hell, mate." Ron breathed as Harry finished his recounting of the night before. It was almost amusing how well Ron had summed up Harry's feelings on the matter in three well-placed words.

For once, Hermione didn't scold Ron for his profanity. In fact, she didn't say a word about it. Instead, all she did was turn around and tend to the potion a bit. Harry knew she was turning around to collect herself without Harry seeing. He didn't stop her, or say anything really.

Each of the three of them started to fall into their own thoughts, all equally dire. Hermione, however, didn't allow for much time. "It's done." She whispered.

"What's done?" Ron replied without thinking. Seeing her gaze at the potion bubbling in the cauldron, however, cleared up the question for him. Swallowing visibly, Ron answered his own question. "Oh." He said.

"Are you sure, Hermione?" Harry asked, standing up and walking to her side. Behind him, he heard Ron following suit. They all stood and stared at the potion as though it were about to attack them. Apprehension lined their faces.

In addition to that apprehension, though, was also resolution on Hermione's face. She nodded, "I'm positive."

"So we're really doing this?" Ron asked from her side, turning a bit green at the prospect of having to drink the think sludge-like concoction in the cauldron. It couldn't be worse than the Polyjuice though, so they did have that advantage.

"We're really doing this." Harry affirmed. He glanced around to see how Ron took that, and saw, that even though he was nervous, his best friend looked excited too. This was certainly something that his brothers hadn't done first.

Hermione took a deep breath and brought out a goblet. "We should go one at a time, just in case." She explained as she poured the correct amount of the potion into the goblet.

"I'll go first." Harry volunteered before his friends could. If anything was going to go wrong, then it was going to go wrong in him. Ron looked as though he wanted to protest, for he was thinking the same thing, but Harry covered it up quickly. "I thought of this."

Hermione pursed her lips, and Harry knew she didn't believe him. Nevertheless, she passed him the goblet full of the foul smelling liquid. Taking a deep breath, Harry threw his head back and downed it all in one long – disgusting – swallow. Gasping for air when he was done, Harry had a look of pure misery on his face. "This had better work, because I'm not doing that again." He forced out.

Out of nowhere, he swayed on his feet. Ron walked around to Harry instantly and grabbed Harry's shoulder in case he needed some support. As if Harry wasn't in the room, Ron looked over to an anxious Hermione. "Should we let him sit down?"

"Maybe that would be good." She said, helping Ron guide Harry to the couch. Normally he would have shaken them off claiming independence, but at that point, he was feeling pretty shaky.

Harry wasn't quite sure what was going to happen. Did he have to wait long? Was it already happening and he didn't notice. Hermione had said hallucination, not drop dead trace, which would mean that he didn't have to pass out first. He would be awake. Beside him, Ron directed another question to Hermione, but Harry didn't hear it.

He was tuning out the rest of the world, and focusing on nothing in particular. The sounds of his friends and the fireplace gave way into a peaceful quiet. Harry found he rather liked the whole process, if things would stay like this. Of course, he could have done without drinking that potion, but it would be a small price to pay.

Harry idly wondered how much time had gone by, it felt like a lot. Maybe he would be stuck in a dazed state forever, never to be aware of the outside world again. Harry wasn't surprised to find that he didn't think he would mind much. Maybe he wasn't thinking clearly, maybe he should mind a lot.

A noise sounded from his side, but he didn't really have the presence of mind to turn and see it's source. He was slightly perturbed at the noise for interrupting his peaceful quiet.

He sensed movement out of the corner of his eye.

Ever so slowly, Harry watch a large lion slowly prowl in front of him. He tracked it with his eyes, never letting the animal from his sight. Did Ron and Hermione see it? Where they even there anymore? He didn't much care, not with such a beautiful creature in front of him.

The lion walked into his field of vision and merely sat down, staring intently at him. Harry wanted to reach out and touch it, but felt it better not to. He wasn't sure why though

As the moments dragged on, and nothing moved, Harry realized quite suddenly that the forehead of the lion had a little lightening bolt on its forehead. It wasn't black, or any color that would make it stand out, it was just a lightening bolt in a color slightly lighter than the lion's fur. How strange was that? Both he and the lion had a lightening bolt scar. In addition to that, as Harry studied the lion even more, they both had bright green eyes.

Realization dawned slowly on Harry. That wasn't just _a_ lion. That was _him as_ a lion.

The creature in front of him nodded its great head slowly as though it had been privy to Harry's contemplations all along.

Without time to adjust, the noise in the room came back and the lion disappeared. Harry came back to himself in one second, leaving him panting at the suddenness of it all.

"Harry?" Ron said beside him, he sounded as though he'd said a lot in recent times. "Harry, are you all right?"

"Ron, he's hallucinating, obviously the hallucination doesn't include us, or else he would have answered you the first hundred times you questioned him." Hermione said impatiently from Harry's other side.

Shaking his head to bring himself back, Harry looked at them both. Both Ron and Hermione looked at him worriedly. "I'm a lion." He breathed.

"A lion?" Ron crowed, "That's brilliant!"

Hermione smiled happily. "That's wonderful Harry." She agreed. "You do feel all right, don't you?" She asked, concern masking her happiness for her friend. However much she had been snapping at Ron during his time among the clouds, it was clear that Hermione had spent every moment of it in a state of constant worries. Though Harry and Ron had helped whenever they could with the potion, it's making had been pretty much Hermione's doing. If something had gone wrong, it would have been her fault.

"Just fine." Harry assured her with a grin. He was still in a state of shock. "I'm a lion." He repeated, trying to figure out how something like that would feel. He couldn't even imagine what it would be like to be an animal. At the moment, though, he felt like he could have made quite the patronus. "Better than fine." He amended.

Giving Harry another few minutes to savor his victory, Hermione silently stood back up and got another goblet full of the potion. Sitting back down, she held the goblet out to Ron. "You next."

"Are you sure you don't want to go? You made the potion practically." Ron said, looking at the goblet with a mixture of excitement, fear and apprehension, all in on jumble.

Pressing the steaming goblet into Ron's hands, Hermione smiled reassuringly. "You go. I'll go last."

"Do it in one big gulp." Harry advised, "It's nasty, but it'll go down easier if you do it all at once. If you stop halfway, you might not be able to force yourself to start again."

"That's reassuring." Ron muttered. He eyed the goblet suspiciously before drinking it much in the same manner as Harry had. Once it was all down, Ron set the goblet into Hermione's waiting hands and groaned. "You weren't kidding."

Harry shook his head and watched Ron carefully. At least Ron had drank the potion sitting, unlike he himself had. Ron's eyes widened and his head lolled from side to side for a second, as though he were dizzy. That passed quickly, and he slowly seemed to fall back onto the couch, sinking into it.

"Is he okay?" Harry asked Hermione, who had gotten up to sit on the coffee table opposite him.

She nodded, "You did pretty much the same thing, so I should think so." She responded.

"How long was I out of it?" he asked, genuinely curious. One second he was sure that it had been less than a minute, others he felt as though they should have been old and gray when he came out of it.

Hermione glanced at the clock on the wall. "In total? I'd say about fifteen minutes." She watched him take that in, "Did it feel like that?"

"No, not really." He said, and then changed his mind. "Sometimes it did. I wasn't thinking too clearly."

"The book said something about thoughts being slower, and a bit more sluggish." Hermione said, glancing over to where the book lay, as if she desperately wanted to reference the exact paragraph that stated this.

What she had said was spot on though, "Exactly. I think the times must vary. Because the lion came and just sat in front of me, waiting for me to get that it was me. I didn't for a while. Once I did though, it just nodded as though it had been waiting."

"So we have to wait for Ron to figure it out himself?" Hermione asked, sending a skeptical glance at Ron, who was serenely staring at the wall.

The way she was acting about Ron brought back memories of the dream that he'd had. Though he had told Hermione and Ron about Voldemort and what Sirius had said, he hadn't mentioned the dream, other than that he'd had one.

In front of him, Hermione watched quietly. "What is it?" she asked.

"You two were a part of my nightmare at first." Harry said quietly. Across from him, Hermione leaned forward to rest her elbows on her knees. She listened quietly and waited for Harry to keep talking. "Ron and I were walking to the library, and I asked what you wanted us there for. He said that you didn't want _me_ there, but you wanted _him_ there. Or rather, just that I wasn't supposed to go. Just him."

Hermione's eyes narrowed as she listened. "I was in the library, and you asked why I wanted the two of you there. But Ron said that I didn't want you there, just him?" she confirmed.

He answered in the affirmative. "In not quite as many words, yeah."

"Maybe it has something to do with something that you've got to do alone." She suggested, sounding upset at the mere prospect. "Maybe we had realized that, but you hadn't?"

"I don't see the two of you letting me go off on my own without a fight." Harry said, finding the scenario highly unlikely. He knew his friends very well, and he knew that they wouldn't let that happen. If anything, the situation would be backwards. He would want them to stay behind, and they wouldn't understand why or want him to go alone.

Hermione seemed pleased by that. "I don't either." She admitted. "It's just a possibility."

"An unlikely one." Harry finished for her. "Maybe it doesn't mean anything at all." He said, thinking back to what Sirius had said about overanalyzing dreams.

"I hope not." She replied tightly. With a quick glance up at the clock, Hermione announced, "Thirteen minutes."

Harry grinned at the sudden though that entered his mind. "So what did you and Ron chat about while I was off staring at lions?"

"He spent a great deal of time asking you if you were all right." Hermione said, smiling in spite of herself. "But we did get to talking about what we'd like to be. Or what we thought we would be. Then we started speculating about _you_." She finished with a sidelong glance to Harry. "I thought a lion would actually be a possibility for you. They're quite brave."

"I'm pretty happy with it." Harry smiled. "I could have ended up something I didn't really want to be." He said, relief evident in his voice. Sifting the topic slightly, Harry asked Hermione, "What about Ron?"

Hermione turned to their friend, who at fifteen minutes was still staring at something only he saw, and laughed. "He's still convinced he'll be a platypus or something equally stupid."

"What do you think?" Harry asked, knowing that Hermione would have a pretty good guess.

And she did. With a spare glance to Ron and then the clock, Hermione laid out her reasoning. "I think you're right with the whole something loyal theory. But I also think it'll be something that is notorious for being a bit wild itself."

"So Ron'll need to be tamed?" Harry asked incredulously. That would be something he'd have to tell Ron later, when he woke up, or really, snapped out of it. It was quite hard to word things correctly, since you were so far away, but still technically right there and very much awake.

Sensing the teasing in his voice, Hermione only lightly hit his arm. "No. Not exactly. It just might end up to be an animal that has a side to it that could be seen like that." She said. "I'll bet my life that he doesn't end up some cute little gently kitten or something."

Ron chose that moment to throw himself forward, as though he had been pushed from behind. "Sweet Merlin!" he yelled.

"Ron, you okay?" Harry asked, leaning over to let a hand hover on his friend's shoulder. Hermione slid down the table so she was sitting opposite Ron instead of Harry.

Nodding frantically, Ron sent a wide-eyed look at them. "Wow." He croaked.

"Well, come on, don't keep us waiting!" Hermione exploded. She was on the edge of her seat, literally.

Harry watched, mentally praying to every god he knew of that Ron would be happy with what he turned out to be.

Slowly, Ron's blank face slid up into a wide grin. "I'm a stallion." He announced smugly. "A horse."

Harry sent a quick look to Hermione who looked quite happy for Ron, if not a little pleased with herself. She'd guessed right. Horses were loyal to their masters or riders. Alongside with that, wild horses often needed to be broken in – or tamed. "I knew you'd be something great, Ron." Hermione said.

"Congratulations." Harry said. "So, you're the new Black Beauty?" he asked slyly.

Hermione snorted, and covered her mouth quickly. Ron, however, seemed completely confused. "No, I'm a dark reddish color. My mane and tail are black though…" He trailed off, confused.

"Muggle book." Harry explained while Hermione calmed down. "Seriously, though, that's great."

Ron, still grinning like a Weasley twin in a prankster's convention, shooed Hermione into getting her own goblet full of potion. "Your turn. Enjoy the flavor."

Like the boys before her, Hermione seemed to decide that one painful gulp was the best way to go about it. She, however, blocked out the smell by pinching her nose. As Hermione finished her portion, Ron leaned to Harry, "I should have thought of that. The smell's as bad as the taste."

"That's 'Mione for you." Harry whispered as Hermione finished. Quickly standing, Harry nudged Hermione into his seat on the couch and took over her's on the table. "How's the taste?" he directed to Hermione a bit louder.

"Vile." She responded as she looked around the room as though she'd never seen it before. It didn't take long for her to lean back into the couch as Harry and Ron had already done.

Ron waved his hand in front of her face and found that she didn't change expression at all. "She's under." He announced needlessly.

"Well, it took me fifteen she said. And you about…" Harry broke off to sneak a peak at the clock. "About seventeen. I don't think she'll take as long as us."

Agreeing, Ron nodded. "No, I don't think it will either. I probably could have gone faster, but having a horse walk right up to me kind of knocked thought from me for a minute."

"I was more admiring the lion than not thinking at all." Harry confided. They stayed silent for a minute and stared at Hermione. She was acting no different than they had during their own hallucinations. You became solely focused on the animal that presented itself to you. Breaking his eyes away from Hermione, Harry turned back to Ron. "What do you think she'll end up?"

Ron turned to him again also, this face welling up as he thought it over. "We obviously know it's going to be something that's got a reputation for being smart."

"Yeah, I ended up a lion – synonymous for brave. You're a horse, a loyal animal." Harry observed. He turned back to Hermione. "What animal has a reputation for being smart?"

Falling back against the couch, Ron laughed, "An eagle! The mascot for the Ravenclaw House!"

"I wonder what she'd say to that." Harry mused. "I'm not sure if she'd be upset or not." He stated, even sounding unsure. Hermione could just take the animal at face value and enjoy it. Then again, she could see that as being disloyal to Gryffindor.

Ron didn't seem as worried though, he shook his head, "Nah. She's got to know she's got a lot of Ravenclaw in her. How can you miss it? Just like I've got a bit of that Hufflepuff loyalty thing – not the emotionally in tuned crap though, mind you – and you're a bit Slytherin at times too." He said, surprising Harry with his Slytherin connection, "It's no big deal."

"I suppose you can't really stuff anyone in one set of characteristics." Harry reasoned. Looking up at the clock, Harry reported, "Ten minutes."

"She could be a cat too." Ron mused, looking Hermione over. "Crookshanks would just love that." He finished sarcastically. Even though Hermione's cat had been right about Scabbers – or really, Wormtail – there was no love loss between Ron and the ginger colored cat.

Deciding that any comment about Crookshanks would only end up being taken badly, Harry let that slide. He was at a loss about Hermione, he wasn't quite sure what she would be. "I guess we'll just have to wait." He said, sighing. He glanced to the clock, twelve minutes.

Just as Harry turned away from the clock and back to Ron, Hermione sat up straight and let out a long breath. Ron shot up and Harry leaned forward, both eager to hear what she had to say.

Hermione turned to the two of them, her face the picture of calm. "I think that went rather well." She said calmly. Before Ron could do basically the same thing she had to him and yell for information, she answered his question before he could ask it. "I'm an owl."

Harry grinned, that was perfect. Giving Ron a glance, he said, "Guess she'll get along better with Hedwig then, huh?" Then, to Hermione, "That's wicked, Hermione. You can fly!"

Ron groaned with envy, and even Hermione – who was notorious for wanting to keep her feet firmly planted to the ground – looked pleased.

There was only one downside to their victory. Ron was the first to bring it up. He groaned again, and this time not with envy. "Now to the Latin dictionaries for us."

_

* * *

As I said at my livejournal, these might not be the most original choices or the most creative ones. I'm sure if I'd really gone in depth, I could have come up with some cool alternatives. These animals though, are truly what I think would fit each character best. And as long as they feel right to me, well, that's all that I really care about. However, I do **really want to hear your feedback **on them – love them or hate them! So let me know, okay guys?_

_Tell me what you think about the chapter in general! _

_**Stars Enchantress**_

**Coming Soon in The Return of the Father - **Return of the Marauders


	32. The Return of the Marauders

**The Return of the Father: **_Return of the Marauders_

* * *

_Hello all and thank you very much to all of those lovely reviewers. I'm glad that the animagus forms weren't met with too much hatred! Here you go, the next chapter, jammed full of scenes that are automatically supposed to be included whenever you start up one of these James-Comes-Back stories._

_By the way, the halfway through this chapter will be the official halfway point in the story! Yeah, that's right, there are sixty-three chapters in this story._

_All owl information comes courtesy of The Illinois Raptor Center. A link will be left in my livejournal for anyone who wants to see a picture. _

_**----------------------------Gryffindor Tower**_

"Wakey wakey green eyes!"

Harry turned his head and groaned into his pillow. His father was truly a five year old sometimes. Choosing not to respond to James's insane request to "Wakey wakey", Harry decided it would be much better to ignore him in favor of more sleep.

James, however, was not about to accept that. "Come on, time to get up." James said, "You'll miss the explosion if you don't!" he chanted into Harry's hear, quite loudly.

Despite his better judgment, Harry rolled over and peaked out from under his covers, "Explosion?" he questioned – half asleep still.

"Yes, explosion." James said, smiling in a very self satisfied – and scary – way. Harry knew it couldn't have been good.

For that moment, it was forgotten that James was the father and Harry was the son. Their roles reversed as Harry pulled on a stern face. "James Potter, what did you do?"

"You'll see." James replied ominously. Knowing he'd piqued Harry's curiosity enough to get the boy down to breakfast, James skipped out of the room, leaving a very horrified Harry in his wake.

**_--------------------------------Remus's Room _**

With Sirius safely out of his room, Remus collapsed back on the bed. He, unlike poor Harry, knew exactly what the two more childish Marauders had in mind. How could he not, when he'd helped?

_**--FLASHBACK—**_

_"Now, the plan's set, right?" James whispered, even though there was no one listening and they were safely in Remus's room. It was truly as if time had turned back and they were in their seventh year again. James certainly looked as if they were, and Sirius was acting quite like a seventh year. Then again, Sirius never acted his age._

_Remus darted his eyes between his two best friends. As much as he'd grumbled and been reluctant to do this, he was so very glad he was. Dangerous, yes, but it was thrilling to be a marauder again. _

_The familiar mixed feeling of being self-satisfied and fearful at the same time rose up in him. He shook with anticipation. There was nothing like the thrill of knowing a prank of such a scale was about to be pulled, and the tensing of his body because he knew they might get caught. _

_It was one of the best feelings Remus had ever experienced. _

"_Of course, Mr. Prongs." Sirius – or Mr. Padfoot – replied, nodding his head. "By later tonight, no quills will remain in the castle. All quills planted there will only write insults about one, Severus Snape, and – erm – suggestive praise to one, Minerva McGonagall." _

_Mr. Prongs seemed pleased with Mr. Padfoot's responsibility in the plan. Mr. Moony – internally he winced that his thinking was back in the Marauder mindset – listened to what was next on the agenda. "And I, Mr. Prongs, will be transfiguring random stones on the second floor corridors – plus the dungeons – into portkeys that will lead you to a different place in the castle." He finished, sounding rather self-satisfied with himself. _

_Mr. Moony internally groaned, he had been the one to lend Mr. Prongs the book about portkey making he'd found back in fourth year. _

_Smiling, Mr. Padfoot turned to Mr. Moony. "I trust, Mr. Moony, that your superior memory will not be needing refreshing on your particular part in the plan?" _

"_No, Mr. Padfoot, it will not." Mr. Moony replied needlessly._

_Mr. Prongs grinned. "Well, my fine gentlemen, we have four hours – four and a half if we want to be daring – to complete our assigned tasks. Hogwarts Castle will curse itself for ever lulling into the false sentiments of Marauders being too old or too mature for such pranks. They will never again think they can rest easy in a night where all true Marauders are together and able to reclaim and hold their positions of chief pranksters." _

"_Could you be a bit more melodramatic, Mr. Prongs?" Mr. Padfoot asked sarcastically. All in all though, he looked pleased with Mr. Prongs' speech. Mr. Prongs himself didn't look too upset with being called melodramatic. _

_Choosing to ignore Mr. Padfoot's interruption, Mr. Prongs continued on, "We will all return here when our respective tasks are completed. No dawdling." He repeated, just as he had every time they had done this before. The no dawdling part was originally in there because of Mr. Wormtail, but it was tradition so it stayed. _

_They all got up and walked out, wands at the ready. Things were a bit more dangerous now that they had no cloak and no map. They would survive however, for they knew the castle like the back of their hands. _

_And so, with a wand ready and a begrudging grin, Mr. Moony set off to make every doorknob shock anyone who touched it without saying the proper incantation first. _

_**--END FLASHBACK—**_

Every single one of their pranks had a proverbial timer on them. They would all start up soon. In fact, Remus mused with a glance to the clock, it would be in ten minutes.

He moaned again. Could grown men get detentions in the middle of the summer?

**_-------------------------------------Great Hall_**

Harry, Ron and Hermione were far from amused. They had been planning on sleeping late, since they'd spent a great deal of the night before working on their spells. Things were coming along nicely with them, and they expected to be done within a few days.

Ron, looking sleepiest of the three, plopped down in a chair. "Just because _your_ dad wanted _you_ up, doesn't mean you had to make the rest of us suffer." He grumbled.

Breakfast hadn't even been served yet.

"Dad said explosion." Harry explained for the tenth time, "I would think that you would rather see that. Besides, you groan about it now, but you'd have been mad if I hadn't woken you up and you would have missed everything."

The redhead mumbled heatedly under his breath, something that sounded suspiciously like "I would have rather been in bed, you git." Harry, however, wasn't going to pursue that.

Instead he turned to Hermione, who was reading a book. He had no other choice; no one else was in the Great Hall yet. It was either interrupt her or sit in silence waiting for Ron to get more with it and less upset. "What are you reading?" Harry asked, despite the fact that he had never really asked such a think before.

Hermione obviously thought he had seen the pages or cover of her book though, for she didn't mind. "A book about owls. I've figured out what I am!" She happily reported.

This perked Ron out of his stupor, "Well, let's have it then."

"A barred owl." Hermione said, turning her book around to show the picture.

Harry gazed at the owl in the photo. It was small, for starters. The colors however, were enough to catch anyone's eye. The feathers were brown, but tipped white, leaving it's face with a very interesting look indeed.

Ron read from the book, "The Barred Owl is often referred to as the "Hoot Owl" because it is often heard not seen." He snorted, "Heard is right. Pretty good match so far."

"Oh be quiet." Hermione snapped, but continued to hold the book out anyway.

Harry picked up where Ron had left off, since if his friend had continued, Hermione might have physically hurt him. He read aloud, finding the next sentence more than a little funny. "While they appear similar in size to the great horned owl, they are not nearly as powerful, possessing smaller talons and weighing only about one pound. They are made up mostly of feathers!"

That appeared to be all that Hermione could take, and she snatched the book back as Harry and Ron started to laugh again. Sobering quickly, though he knew that Hermione was too ecstatic with her form to really mind much, Harry patted her arm, "We're just teasing, 'Mione, you know it." He said, brightening a bit, "Besides, you're the one who gets to fly!"

Hermione frowned at that, "I wonder if I'll have to learn or it'll come natural?" she said, looking down at her book as if she expected the answer to be there. Unfortunately, the book they'd used on animagus training hadn't talked about anything like that.

Hermione was proverbially and literally flying blind.

"I think you'll get it naturally, but maybe have to practice at it a bit to get better. You know, like a baby bird." Harry said while Ron nodded his agreement. This seemed to please Hermione, no doubt because her broom skills were abysmal to say the very least. This would be her own way to fly around.

The Great Hall's doors opened again to reveal a smiling Albus Dumbledore. The headmaster swept in, his royal blue robes trailing behind him. "Good morning, children, why ever would three teenagers be awake so early?" he asked good-naturedly, sitting at his customary spot at the head of the table.

"Dad." Was all Harry said, and really, all he needed to say. Dumbledore nodded pensively, understanding perfectly.

Before the three Gryffindors could think of some small talk to engage the Headmaster in, the man of the hour came through the doors with Sirius at his heels. "Harry! So good to see you up, I was quite worried you would have gone straight back to sleep when I left you." James said, seating himself next to his glaring son while Sirius took the seat opposite James and next to Ron.

"I wish I'd done just that." Harry glowered. "This had better be really good." He added menacingly.

James turned to his son with a pretend look of alarm. "I'll keep it in mind that you, like your mother, turn into a rather unpleasant creature when woken up too early for your liking."

Sirius snorted, no doubt remembering occasions when Lily Potter had proven just how _unpleasant_ she could get.

"Wherever is that werewolf?" Sirius muttered under his breath. He spied the door, waiting for Remus to appear. Surely he wouldn't wait to get to the Great Hall until after all the doorknobs shocked people and the stones transported you to another part of the castle.

Not that Remus didn't know which stones had been targeted or the password to keep the knob from zinging you, but still, it would be a nasty shock to forget.

"He'll be here." James assured his friend, though there was only two minutes on the clock, "You did wake him up, right?"

The look that was shot back at him in response was all that James got. It clearly said, "What do you think?"

"Why is it so important that Remus gets here?" Harry asked, looking back and forth between Sirius and James, "Why can't he just sleep?"

Knowing full and well that Dumbledore was listening to every word that came out of their mouths, James chuckled, "You know Moony, let him sleep and he'd go forever." Of course, that wasn't true of Moony, rather of Sirius, but Harry didn't know that.

He did that sounded strange of Remus's character though, but he said nothing. Instead, he focused on the food that appeared magically in front of him. No matter how long he'd been at Hogwarts or how many times he'd seen the food just appear, it still made him smile. It might have been that it was the first true magic he'd ever really seen at Hogwarts, or his childhood had caused him to become excited still at the thought of food just appearing like that. Harry didn't spend much time contemplating that however; he chose to just dig in. Across from him, Ron attacked his own plate with quite a bit of ferocity.

"Times up, Jamie, get ready." Sirius whispered to James, eyeing the oblivious teenagers. Dumbledore was too engrossed in his plate, but that could have just been a ruse.

You never could really tell with the Headmaster, he was tricky like that.

The door opened and James and Sirius prepared themselves, who would be the first victim of their prank to make it to the Great Hall? They smirked with anticipation, Minnie, Snivellus, maybe a Weasley twin?

It was Remus.

Both James and Sirius automatically deflated at the sight of the former professor. Remus strode up with a small smile, knowing why they looked so disappointed, "Good to see you two also." He teased, sitting down.

"Morning, Remus." Harry greeted, far more cheerfully than the meager "Morning" he got from James and the unintelligible grunt he got from Sirius. For all that though, Remus didn't mind.

"Yeah, good morning." Ron said. Hermione looked up briefly from her book to smile before becoming engrossed again.

Remus tilted forward to see the title of the book, "The Encyclopedia of Owls?" He said, startled. "Hermione, I know you enjoy reading, but isn't that a bit of a strange choice?"

Internally, Harry seized up. Would they know? What would Hermione say? Harry saw that Ron was also having similar feelings. Hermione, however, didn't miss a beat and responded easily. "I'm thinking of buying an owl, I'd like to do a bit of research before I do though." She said, not even looking up to see if her lie had worked.

And amazingly, it had. Remus nodded, "Smart girl." He praised, loading up his own plate.

Harry nearly choked on his toast.

"Any plans for today, boys?" Remus asked, sounding genuinely interested.

Ron opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off in the most loud of ways. The doors to the Great Hall slammed open, smacking against the wall forcefully. Harry was tempted to get up and see if dents had been left.

He was stopped from standing by the sight in the door.

One Minerva McGonagall stood in the doorway, lips pursed so tightly that Harry wasn't sure if she had a mouth anymore. She looked to be shaking in fury, and she was still a good twenty feet away.

"Oh dear." Hermione muttered, shaken from her reading completely. Behind Harry, he could hear his father's breathing go faster. Whether it was from fear or excitement, Harry couldn't tell.

Remus whispered one rather damning sentence, "Here we go…"

So _this_ was the explosion.

"Potter!" She shouted, striding forward as though she were marching into battle. James stood up, looking all in all rather pleased with himself. He quickly tried to hide that and pretend to look confused. It wasn't going to stop her, or make anyone believe it hadn't been at least partly his fault, but he knew it infuriated her.

"Yes, Minnie?" James asked.

That only seemed to infuriate her more, which might not have been the wisest thing to cause.

"You and Black have truly gone too far! Remus, I expected better from you!" she shouted. Her finger pointed to each of them in turn. Harry had been right though, she was shaking she was so angry.

Dumbledore, ever the mediator, stood also along with the three marauders. "Minerva, please calm yourself. What is it that is troubling you?"

"Troubling me? Troubling, Albus, is exploding toilets. Troubling is disappearing chalk on the blackboards." She yelled. "Troubling is _not_ quills that write…" she broke off with a strangled scream.

Ron looked back at the Marauders- all standing there with varied looks of innocence - with a look of awed pride on his face. Fred and George might not be the only Weasleys who idolized them now.

Everything that had happened during the morning had gelled together in Harry's mind, and suddenly it all made sense. The Marauders had decided things were too quiet in the castle and they had played a prank. Actually, it was quite the prank to pull, if what he thought about what McGonagall had said was true.

"Minerva, please calm down and speak rationally." Dumbledore tried again. He walked around the table to where she was, obviously of the mind to take control of the situation. That was not to be.

The doors, already opened, admitted another irate person. Or rather, two. "Dumbledore! Someone's pranked the castle. I don't think it was the twins this time either. " Molly Weasley called, walking in with her husband beside her. "The doorknob shocked me whenever I touched it, I thought it was the twins. But was we were walking down, George stepped on one of the stones of the floor and just disappeared. Fred moved back to investigate and he disappeared too!"

"Oh trust me, Mrs. Weasley, your sons did not pull this prank. Not by a long shot." McGonagall chimed in, shaking her head. Her hair was falling out of her normally flawless bun and going around her shoulders in disarray.

Mrs. Weasley turned to Professor McGonagall, eyes going wide at the sight of the normally composed Transfiguration teacher so out of control. "If not the twins, then who?"

"Them!" She yelled, pointing her finger at the three grinning men behind Harry.

"Minerva, please, you don't know that." Dumbledore said. The twinkle in his eye indicated that she did indeed know that, and he did too. It seemed that Dumbledore was having too much fun to end things by bringing James, Sirius and Remus to his office.

That was just fine by them though.

"Mum, Bill disappeared! And all of the doorknobs kept shocking me when I touched them." Ginny said, running into the Great Hall. The scene in front of her, however, was enough to stop her dead. Her eyes widened and she quiet slunk over to the table next to Hermione. "What happened?" She asked. All Hermione could do was shrug.

Things were rapidly going out of control, and Dumbledore didn't seem to be trying very hard to fix that. Whether it was because he was having too much fun, he didn't really care enough to try very hard, Harry couldn't tell. Whatever it was though, there wasn't a whole lot of calming going on, no matter how many times Dumbledore asked for it or how many times he held up his hands as if for silence.

Charlie, whose quill had shocked him enough to come down, followed Ginny's appearance. Apparently he'd been having fun when it was just writing insults about Snape, the moment it had written – _things_ – about McGonagall, he'd come running.

Next were the twins, who claimed to have been in the main hallway one minute and then turned up in Trelawney's classroom the next.

Madame Pomfrey rushed in with Bill, who magically appeared in the Hospital Wing, and had handkerchiefs around their hands to help protect against the shocks – James had actually snorted when she'd said that.

Harry kept tugging at his father's robes, one step from begging him to hightail it out of the Great Hall. Things were getting hairy in there, especially with McGonagall informing each newcomer that it had been James, Sirius and Remus.

James however, was insistent and wouldn't move. He dropped the innocent look by the time that Trelawney herself made a rare appearance outside of her tower, claiming that horrible things were afoot in the castle and she'd know it all along. That had been too much for Sirius, who was still collapsed in his chair laughing.

"Dad, come on." Harry whispered, tugging on his father's robes again. He jerked his head towards the still open Great Hall doors. "We can make a run for it before anyone realizes were gone."

In front of him, still watching the proceedings with her mouth ready to fall open, Hermione actually tore her eyes away for a brief second. "I think that's a really good idea, Harry. James, Sirius, Remus, I think it's time you had a day trip out or something."

"In a few minutes." James said, shushing them all. When Harry made a move to speak again, he just put his hand over his son's mouth. James appeared to be waiting for something.

Harry spied the ever-growing crowd, looking for what James might be waiting for. All of the Weasley's had turned up; the teachers were present and accounted for, the Marauders, also he, Hermione and Ron were there…wait.

Not all of the teachers were present.

Harry listened to McGonagall yell for a moment, "The quills are insulting Severus, who else would do that?"

The moment the words were out of her mouth, he paled. Snape hadn't gotten up to the Great Hall yet. Harry leaned over to where both Ron and Hermione could hear him, "Snape." He whispered, knowing that was all they needed.

Hermione straightened out instantly, looking around at the throngs of people practically attacking the still cheerful Dumbledore. "He's not here."

With Hermione's additional confirmation that Harry had been right, Ron turned to the Marauders, "It's been really nice knowing you." He said in all seriousness.

"Oh, don't worry Ron." Remus said, placing his hand on the red head's shoulder. "I don't think Severus would actually hurt…" he said.

Before he could finish the sentence, a blue streak of light shattered the plate in front of James.

"POTTER!"

Severus Snape marched forward with his wand outstretched. He had a look of pure fury on his face that not even Harry – the object of his hatred for the last four years – had ever seen before.

Ron, quite calmly for someone about to witness murder, turned to Remus, "You were saying?"

Remus's eyes were wide, as if he'd actually believed what he had just started to say. This was not school anymore though, and Severus Snape had grown more volatile as they years went by. Another curse flew, and James had to actually duck. Gulping visibly, Remus said, "I stand corrected."

Sirius jumped over the table to stand next to James, who'd drawn his wand by then. Seeing that things were quickly going to get out of hand, Remus followed suit. He spoke out of the corner of his mouth to Harry, "Quidditch field." Then he grabbed on to both Sirius and James. He muttered something else, something Harry wasn't supposed to hear, and jammed his foot down on a particular stone.

With that, they were gone.

"Remus must have installed another portkey when your Dad had gone back inside, Harry!" Hermione exclaimed instantly, before Harry and Ron had ever processed what had happened.

Snape let out a scream of fury, wiping the smile from Hermione's face. "I think it's time we joined them, yes?" She asked in a small voice. It was clear she wouldn't be able to look at Snape the same way again.

"I agree." Harry said. With James gone, there was no reason to stick around and watch the carnage. Snape turned his furious black eyes onto Harry.

"Moving, now!" Ron said, grabbing Harry's arm.

**_-----------------------------Quidditch Pitch_**

The three Marauders instantly blinked into existence on the Quidditch field. The change was almost too fast for James and Sirius, who where still in battle stance. Remus let them go and took a step back.

James turned his head around quickly, as if looking for the Great Hall or Snape. After a moment, and a realization most likely, he turned back to Remus quite calmly. "I didn't know you knew how to make portkeys, Remy."

"I read up on it last night." Remus said, squinting his eyes in the sunlight. "I'm glad it worked."

Sirius seemed put out by the change in scenery, he'd really been looking forward to dueling – and beating – Snape. "Why'd you do that?" he asked, practically whining.

"Because you were about to get killed by one extremely pissed off Ex-Death Eater Potions Master, that's why!" Remus exclaimed. Sirius was just upset he'd missed the change to curse Severus under the pretext of "defending himself".

James, clearly not upset enough for a fight over it, held his hands up. He, unlike Dumbledore, got some results with the action. "One." He said, turning to Remus, "We would have killed him." Then, turning to Sirius, he said, "And two, don't complain. He portkeyed us to a quiddtich pitch, be thankful it wasn't the library."

News of his surroundings brightened Sirius considerable. "Hey, you're right, Prongs. Thanks Moony. Now James can see Harry fly."

James hadn't thought of that. Though he knew that Harry was a brilliant flyer, and that he's been said to be better than his father, it would be a whole new experience to actually see him, or even compete with him.

"Here they come." Remus said, looking towards the far end of the field. Sure enough, when James turned, he could clearly see his son and his two best friends walking quickly towards them.

Ron made it to them first, "Nice trick!" he praised Remus. Sirius growled a bit.

"Snape got even more nasty when you left." Harry reported, sending a look back at the castle as if he expected Snape to come out also. When nothing happened, he looked back at his father, who was grinning again in the most unnerving of manners.

"Yeah, we have to leave when he started to give Harry the evil eye!" Ron stated loudly. This nearly – nearly – made the smile on James's face drop. The thought of quidditch with his son was enough to keep it on there.

Hermione quickly put her hands on her hips, "You did all of that, didn't you?" She addressed all three of them. The look on her face was unreadable, but James could easily see why Hermione was able to keep Harry and Ron in line at least a little.

"Maybe?" Sirius asked lamely. Seemingly deciding that he didn't care, he nodded to confirm, "Yeah."

"Bloody brilliant." Ron said, grinning from ear to ear. Beside him, Harry grinned happily too, for which James was grateful.

Ever so slyly, James looked around the quidditch pitch with his hands behind his back. "Well, look at that. One big field all to ourselves. Whatever will we do?"

Harry looked around also, and then slowly settled his gaze back on his father. Without even asking what the older man meant, he fished his wand out from his pocket and shouted, "_Accio_ Firebolt!"

James was slightly confused, but Remus, Sirius and Ron smiled. Hermione even looked a bit excited, though she normally bashed quidditch quite regularly. Of course, when it came down to it, she was at every game cheering Harry on.

A faint whizzing noise could be heard in the distance, and James turned his head to locate its source. After a moment he could see it. A broom was flying towards them at a rapid speed. All of the pieces fell into place. Firebolt was the name of Harry's broom.

Now, not only was he excited for playing quidditch with his son, he was going to get to try a new broom. Excellent.

The broom flew right into Harry's outstretched hand. James gave it a good look, "Nice summoning."

"Done it before." Harry reminded with a grin, and James's mind was taken back to the First Task of the Triwizard Tournament.

"Well, I know that I don't have a broom anymore, and James's probably got burnt to a crisp. So what do we ride?" Sirius asked with a frown. He didn't mention Remus, and the trio took that to mean that Remus, like Hermione, had cheered on his friends at quidditch matches, rather than be on the team.

Harry thought about it for a moment before turning to Ron, "I'll summon yours. Do you think that Fred and George would mind if I grabbed theirs?"

"For James and Sirius?" Ron asked skeptically, "No, they'd be honored."

Accepting that, Harry raised his wand again and quickly shot out a summoning charm for all of the brooms required. At the last second, eh turned to Remus and Hermione, "You guys sure?"

Remus spoke for them both, "No, we'll cheer you guys on. This way it can be two on two." From Ron's left, Hermione let out a crisp nod.

"All right." Harry said as he tossed the newly arrived brooms to his father, Sirius and Ron. "Before we play though, Dad, why don't you try my broom?" he asked, holding out the firebolt.

James strode forward, his eyes on the broom. Sirius had told him that the broom Harry had was the best broom ever made. How much of an improvement that was from the top of the line broom from nearly fifteen years ago was the real question. He took the broom from his son, and walked towards the center of the pitch. James was well aware that all eyes were on him, but when had that ever bothered him?

He mounted the broom and kicked off.

From the moment he was in the air, two things became blatantly clear. One, he was absolutely at home in the air.

Two, he had to buy his own firebolt.

The broom rode as if James were in a dream. Without stopping mid-air once, he dove all around the quidditch pitch, performing dives left and right and zipping around so fast that everything was a blur. The firebolt responded as though it were reading his thoughts, not his actions.

All too soon, he landed back in front of his son. "If you ever want to ride this thing again, we have to go up and owl order one for me right away. If not, then I'll be on yours all the time." He informed his grinning son.

"I figured that." Harry responded, taking the broom from his hands before James could hop back on and fly away again. "You know, for an old guy, you're pretty good."

"Old guy?" James asked incredulously, "Excuse me, I'm twenty one." He said angrily. "If you want old guys, point to them." James said, indicating to Remus and Sirius.

Sirius sputtered, all he could muster up was "Hey!" Indigently he shouted, "I'm thirty-four, thank you very much!"

"You know what I meant, Sirius." James said, well aware that even though Sirius was almost at his mid thirties, he looked to be in his late twenties – if you didn't look at his eyes, which seemed far older at times – and acted as though he were a fifteen year old.

All Sirius did was cross his arms in front of his chest, "I'm not so sure I want to be on your team anymore."

Choosing to ignore Sirius during his hissy fit, knowing he would snap himself out of it, James turned back to Harry. "We play seeker, right?" he asked, eyeing Ron and Sirius.

"What position were you, Sirius?" Hermione asked, obviously working to get Sirius out of his rather unbecoming funk.

Her question did the trick as Sirius smiled in a reminiscing sort of way. "Beater." He said, sighing, "I lost track of how many people I sent to the hospital wing."

At that point, Remus quietly leaned over to the Gryffindor trio. "He was a bit hazardous, if it had been anyone else, he'd have been thrown off the team. The teachers wouldn't do that though, as it worked as a great outlet for his spare energy." A small smile played on Remus's face, "He _really_ needed an outlet."

"Knowing Sirius, he _really_ needed ten outlets." Harry said with a laugh. Sirius huffed a bit, but for all that, he didn't really do anything to argue the point.

Instead of continuing that line of conversation, James held up the broom he would be borrowing. "Let's get going."

So they all worked their way to where James had originally kicked off as Remus conjured them up some quidditch balls. After that, they were just four blurs in the field.

Remus and Hermione made their way up to the quidditch stands, taking their seats to watch the game. By the end of the day, however, no one had gone inside, and they had only really stopped briefly for a lunch brought out to them by the two people cheering them on.

Game rapidly turned into games. And although James did beat his son a few times, the games managed to end the age old question of which Potter was better at quidditch.

It was Harry.

James, however, didn't really mind.

_

* * *

Okay, bittersweet fluffy ending for a chapter, I know. This, like I said, is one of those required chapters. I hope you enjoyed it, as many people have been asking for it since chapter one practically._

_I'm glad to get that over with, I don't do so well with the mellower fluffy stuff (even if this doesn't really count as fluff!). Drama is easier for me. _

_And, as you'll all be so happy to know, I get to write some nice drama for the next chapter! _

_Before I go post this, I want to give a shout out to all of the reviewers for the last chapter, you are all amazing and the reason why I write! _

_So, without further ado, thank you to: pitbull123, Barby-Black, sami1010220, Smorefan, Rhiane Raine, deanine (That was an amazing review, thank you so much!), gillian88, smurfinator, Mysterious Prophetess, Freedom Isn't Free, FCK all that's missing is U, magicgirl45852, DemonicK, insanechildfanfic, A-luver-ov-randomness, centaursh, Nicala, SBR, November's Ash, SeekerGirl17, moonypadfoot, FrodoBeutlin, volleypickle16, steffles24, queen-of-monkey-magic, SilverTrinity, dweem-angel, Secret Keeper the Owl, CannonFodder, Kryzt, Wickedly-Witchy, Ceyxa, katemary77, SarahtheBardess, Harrypfan001 TEACHERLADY, IamSiriusgrl, Eric2, DawnRising, ambereyes2873, MarauderKid, Phoniex Love, deadbattery, moonfyre, BabeBunny, Lunatic Pandora1, thedarklordsonlyheir, emuerz, maya100, Larna Mandrea, Ingrid-Potter, Thee-Unknown-Factor, Muffaa, Drigpawz, Nooka, Gavroche-Girl, Silverspecter, KeyvieSnape, Lilly Blitz, Lobarie, Makalani Astral, Tragic Misdemeanors, Happyherminchen, Rsegovia_

_I figure, just this once, I'd give everyone a mention. _

_**Stars Enchantress **_

_**Next Up in Return of the Father **– Wormtail_


	33. Wormtail

**The Return of the Father:**_ Wormtail_

_

* * *

Hello all. Thank you very much to the reviewers for the last chapter. I see that everyone enjoyed the fast update last time (sadly that could be done for this chapter!). Do you guys remember the days of old when I was chapters ahead of what you were reading and could therefore post every other day? Ahh, the good old days. _

_-----------------------------_**Unknown**

"Come now, Wormtail, surely you could scour up a bit more information than that?" The drawling voice from the chair said.

He was talking to a man in front of him, a cowering man. Where the first person was cool and detached, the second man was painfully frightened and nervous.

Lord Voldemort had that reputation, of not caring about a thing. It wasn't true, for he cared very much about some times, but he did manage to keep up a cool façade to hide behind quite a bit.

Peter Pettigrew wasn't so lucky. He'd never been calm, cool or collected. He was forever a scared man. It wasn't hard to be scared in the presence of the Dark Lord though. It was only confident brave wizards and witches who were unfazed by his Lord. Wormtail wasn't one of them.

"No…no, My Lord, my merciful Lord. I'm sorry, so very sorry. They…they didn't speak much of…" he trailed off, searching for what to say.

Tom Riddle, the man Voldemort once was, laughed. "Say his name, Wormtail. He is alive again, and you will be seeing him so very soon. Say it." He commanded.

"They didn't speak much of…James." He said, his voice dropping to a bare whisper at the name of his former best friend. A man that he had betrayed.

"You could hear nothing while your roamed around the Ministry as a rat?" Voldemort asked, sounding skeptical and mocking at the same time. It was clear that he thought little of Wormtail, even though the rat did occasionally have his uses.

Looking at the way Wormtail trembled, it was just as clear that he knew it. "No, my Lord." He whispered while bowing his head, "Dumbledore is keeping them quite."

"Sure of it, are you?" Voldemort asked. "Dumbledore does have a habit of putting his overly crooked nose in where it doesn't belong." He said, spitting out Dumbledore's name.

Wormtail, more than aware that Voldemort still feared Dumbledore, wasn't sure if the Dark Lord wanted anything said in return. He stayed quiet, shifting from one foot to the other as if he were a scared child waiting for his parent to reprimand him.

"Stop that!" Voldemort spat, and Wormtail stood equally on both feet instantly. "I don't have time for your foolishness, Wormtail!"

Knowing he was alive for basically as long as he was useful, such a sentence could be the one that lead to his death, and Wormtail was well aware of that. Rushing to get to his knees, he tried to keep the trembles from his voice for as long as he could, "Is there anything I could do, my…lord? Anything at all? I could try again, I could get – get you information?"

Voldemort favored him with a cool glance; he stared at Wormtail as if he were lower than the dirt on the floor. To Voldemort and the other Death Eaters, he was. "Wormtail, get yourself up." He ordered, sounding bored. Wormtail scrambled to comply. "You need not be so afraid. I wouldn't _dare_ kill you before you had the chance to reunite with your dear best friend James."

If anything, that scared Wormtail worse. "Y-y-yes Master."

"Would you like that, Wormtail? I'm sure it would make _Prongs_ so very happy." Voldemort drawled, he threw James Potter's old nickname out there to see the effect it had on Wormtail, and he was rewarded with a flinch.

Wormtail said nothing for a moment. It was obvious he wanted nothing to do with any meetings with any of his former friends. His answer reflected otherwise.

"Yes, Master."

**----------------------------------Gryffindor Tower**

"Harry! Harry wake up!" Ron bellowed at his friend, shaking him roughly when nothing happened.

Harry had been having his usual nightmare, which Ron hated, but knew he could do nothing about. He'd gone over to check on Harry though, right after things had gone deadly silent on his best friend's side of the room. No amount of shaking could wake him up, and that scared Ron more than he cared to admit.

Again, he yelled, "Harry!"

This time it seemed to have an effect. Harry's eyes snapped open. The familiar green eyes of his best friend were dilated with fear. Ron didn't like that one bit. "You all right, mate?" He asked, and then amended, "No, you're not. What was that dream about?"

He leaned back to allow Harry some room. His friend took a few seconds to take a few deep breaths to get himself back under control. Then he groaned.

"Vision." Harry grated, dragging a tired hand down his face. He sat up in bed then crossed his legs to get comfortable.

Ron, who had been sitting on the side of the bed, shifted his position so he too was sitting on the bed. "Vision?" he croaked back nervously. While this had happened a few times since Voldemort had reemerged, it still worried him. How would he feel to be lurking around in the Dark Lord's mind watching him do _things_?

"Yeah." Harry responded quietly, not liking the new development in his "relationship" with Voldemort anymore than Ron was. He would much rather go back to the days when the only special part about them was that Voldemort couldn't touch him.

Visibly gulping, Ron steeled himself for the answer to his next question. "What did you see?"

Usually, the only thing that Harry had seen was brief parts of Death Eater gatherings. Nothing important or threatening. But as the Dark Lord gained strength the possibility of seeing scenes of killing and torture became more real and more frightening.

This time, though, he'd been lucky. Of course, that was really a matter of opinion. "Wormtail and Voldemort were talking." He reported, looking grim.

Ron tensed at the mention of Wormtail, then flinched at the use of Voldemort's name. He was getting better with both, but in the middle of the night, he seemed to have reverted back to old habits. It was still fairly obvious that he wouldn't be switching "You-Know-Who" to "Voldemort" anytime soon though. "What were they talking about?" Ron asked.

Harry stared hard at the wall on the other side of the room. "My dad, partly."

"Nothing really bad though, right?" Ron asked, sounding a bit anxious for Harry. "You-Know-Who's not planning anything, right?"

Diverting his gaze back over to his friend, Harry shook his head, "No. More Voldemort was taunting him about my dad being back and all." He clarified. Ron breathed out a sigh of relief, and Harry knew exactly how he felt.

They both stayed quiet for a moment, Harry taking time to process his dream and Ron gathering his wits. For Harry, there was really only one question left to bug him. Voicing it, he asked, "What do you think my dad will do with him?"

"Do with him?" Ron questioned, sounding confused. Harry couldn't tell for sure, his eyes had moved down to the blanket. He nervously played with his hands.

"Yeah, you know, what would happen if they met?" He asked again, not looking up when his question was met with silence.

Ron didn't seem quite sure as to what to say. What did you say to something like that? All he had to go by was what he would do if he were in the same situation as James. "I'd probably kill him." He said without hesitation, "And Harry, I could see James doing the same." Turning thoughtful, he added, "Though I could see him wanting to send Peter to Azkaban so he would suffer over it."

Sighing, all Harry could do after a statement like that was admit it was true. "I could see that too."

"It's not like there's really any love left there. Peter kind of killed the whole loyalty issue too." Ron reasoned.

Harry knew all that. He had known it for a while. It was all certainly true of Sirius also. That didn't make it any easier to deal with though. He didn't like the idea of his father just charging in there thinking he could beat Peter. That was the exact attitude that got Sirius years in Azkaban.

He knew he couldn't keep his father out of the war. On top of that, he couldn't expect James to just sit there if Peter was around. That wasn't how James Potter was, and Harry didn't expect him to be that way.

It didn't make the idea of his father getting injured or killed in the name of revenge any easier though.

"Harry?" Ron asked quietly, a polar opposite to how they'd started the conversation.

He looked up, but didn't say anything. He didn't really have much to say. Ron, though well meaning, wouldn't be able to help him with his worries. And as much as he hated that, Ron knew it.

"Why don't you go see your Dad? He's still in Sirius's room, right?" Ron suggested, knowing that was really what his friend needed after a dream like that.

Harry nodded and got up. He didn't bother changing out of his pajamas, or even grabbing a robe. "Thanks Ron." He said, smiling tightly.

Past waking Harry up, Ron hadn't done much, and he knew that. Nevertheless, he smiled back – his own efforts came out far better than Harry's had – and returned, "Anytime."

**------------------------------------Sirius's Room**

Had he wanted one, Dumbledore would have provided him with his own room. He had even told James so. Instead, James chose to crash into everyone else's rooms on a regular basis. One night Remus, the next Sirius then swing back over to the Tower to be with Harry.

This pattern suited him well, and he wasn't about to ask for a room and mess it up. He hadn't roomed with Sirius or Remus for – in James's perspective – a few years, and he found it to be just as much fun as before. It gave them all time to talk out old problems or talk about nothing at all.

"And the look on Snape's face!" Sirius crowed, sprawled out on his bed. James sent a sharp look his way, trying to remember what they'd been talking about. Of course, Snape's face could have been the topic leading to talk of many pranks, but the memory of their discussion about their latest prank sifted back into his head.

Chuckling, though a bit farther behind Sirius's comment than he normally was, James pictured the exact look of fury gracing the man's hooked nosed face. "You would have thought we'd taken his favorite cauldron away or something."

"Hmmm…" The occupant of the bed trailed off, becoming more serious as he thought over James's statement. "Do you think he has one?"

Plans and plots were kept from forming due to a rather untimely – though, for Snape it was a sound from Merlin himself – knock. James got up to answer it after it became clear that Sirius wasn't budging. It was obviously not Remus, for he would have just waltzed right in.

"Harry!" James greeted, startled at his son's sudden appearance. "What's up?"

Harry suddenly flushed, as though he'd thought better of coming to James. He bowed his head, and shifted from foot to foot. "Um, well, Ron said I might feel better if I came, and it was just a stupid nightmare, and it really didn't bother me that much, I just came down…." He pressed forward.

James was still processing the first half of the sentence, but managed to grasp it all. Harry had obviously had a nightmare and been woken up by Ron, who had then suggested that a little time with his dad might do him good. It appeared though, that Harry had suddenly become unsure. Gently pressing his hand against Harry's still babbling mouth, James pushed up so Harry's face wasn't looking at the floor any longer. "It's all right. Come on in, I'm glad you came." He assured his son.

"Sorry." Harry apologized again. Why, James wasn't quite sure. He wished Harry would realize that he would never be an inconvenience to James.

Sirius had sat up straight in bed and was peering at his pajama-clad godson closely. As much as he hated to do it, James sent an apologetic look Sirius's way. "Padfoot?"

Understanding what James hadn't said, Sirius got up. He walked over to Harry to give the teenager a quick peck on the forehead and nodded to James, "I'll be bothering Moony if you need me." He informed them both.

The door shut behind him, and James led Harry to the couch to sit. "So, I do believe that somewhere in that extremely long sentence, you mentioned a nightmare?" he asked after they were seated.

"Yeah." Harry said, and then shook his head. "No. It was a vision."

Dumbledore had told him about Harry's visions. They had only really just started, but they were there all the same. Harry had kept them a secret at his aunt and uncle's house, though he'd realized what they were. It had been early on in his stay with the Weasley's that they were found out and dealt with by Dumbledore and Sirius both. James, though, didn't know what to make of it all though. Harry could see through Voldemort's eyes? It was too painful a concept for James to dwell on for long. Now, it seemed he would have to. "Vision?" he returned back, voice tight with worry.

Harry nodded, "And yes, I'm sure." He added, when his father was about to open his mouth and ask that exact question. He smiled weakly, not putting much effort at all in making his face look less filled with anxiety.

"What was it?" James asked, almost not wanting to know at all. He wouldn't say that aloud though, not while there was a chance that Harry might take it the wrong way and never come to James with his problems again. He would have to thank Ron later, because Harry would have never come to him without some prodding.

His son stayed silent, and James's worry mounted painfully inside of him. What had Harry witnessed? Death and torture? It was a very real possibility. A feeling that James couldn't quite identify welled up in him, building up more and more as Harry continue to stay quiet. Desperately trying to keep control, James pushed his son a little more. "Harry?"

Harry's head snapped up, having heard the way his name was spoken. He looked horrified at the tense way that James sat there, the way his father looked at him. Harry's mouth opened and closed repeatedly, as though he didn't know how to answer the silent question that James's eyes posed. Finally, he opened his mouth and was able to make sound come out. "No." he croaked.

James felt the rush of air that he hadn't been consciously holding rush out of him. "No?" he asked, finding his throat easing up a little.

"No." Harry confirmed. He looked away again, and appeared to be unable to look at James again. "Nothing like that." He whispered.

Again, Harry wouldn't look at him. James found that he could almost understand. He too wasn't sure if he could continue the conversation if had to stare at his son's eyes. Those eyes that were Lily's before Harry had come. He knew how to read them, he knew how to work around whatever conscious effort they made to shield them. Whether he was talking with Lily or with Harry, he knew exactly what they were feeling, just through those green eyes.

James cleared his throat in an attempt to start speaking again. "Then what was it? Voldemort had to have been there." He asked, hating the way his voice sounded, even if he could talk past the lump in his throat.

"He was." Harry answered. "He was talking to…" Harry trailed off, unable to continue. James didn't know what to make of that. He didn't know what to do at all.

In the end, he decided to just wait. Harry knew he was there, and that would have to be enough. With the way that his son as holding himself, he could tell that Harry would shrug away from him if he were to try to touch him.

Harry closed his eyes, though James couldn't see it. "Peter." He said, whatever weakness had been in his voice vanished and was replaced with a hard edge. "Wormtail and Voldemort were talking – about you."

An invisible vise wrapped around James's chest, and he was again left overcome with emotions. Different emotions from before though, these were far more potent, filled with far more rage. Struggling to suppress his anger, if only for Harry's sake, James forced himself to speak. "What did they say?"

Harry flinched, and James knew he'd probably spoken too harshly. He hadn't meant it at Harry, and when his son spoke, it was clear that he realized that too. "Voldemort was mad because Wormtail didn't find anything new at the ministry. Then Voldemort taunted him because he couldn't say your name."

That was an interesting development. At least Peter harbored no illusions about how James felt about him now. The rat would avoid him at all costs, if he knew anything about how Peter operated – and he most certainly did, more so now than ever.

But while Wormtail avoided him, James would be looking for their next meeting. He wanted it to happen. He needed it to happen. The closure it would provide when he finally killed Peter Pettigrew would be unlike anything else.

"Dad." Harry said, for he too could read his father well. He knew exactly what James was thinking, and he didn't like it at all.

James snapped his head up, looking at his son. Harry had finally turned back to him. He could clearly see the concern in his son's green eyes.

"You can't just go after him." Harry said forcefully. "You just can't." He knew the argument had come out more of a plea, but he would change that.

Unsure as to what to say, James merely stared at Harry. Where was the teenager going with that? All James knew was that he wasn't going to let Peter Pettigrew get off free for murdering his wife.

"Dad." Harry started again, "You have to think. Peter has already proved that we can't underestimate him. Sirius did, and he got in Azkaban for it. I did, and Peter got free." He reasoned. "You can't just run out there looking for him and expect to win."

Now James had something to say, "Harry, I knew Peter. I helped him all the time in school. That boy was practically a squib. I cannot believe that he's suddenly gained a new sense of magic since I've been gone. Twelve years as a rat doesn't really hone your magic skills."

"That doesn't matter." Harry argued. And when James would have spoken, he said it again, "It doesn't. We all know Sirius is a thousand times stronger than Peter, but he still got beaten."

Harry had a point, and they both knew it. Either way, it was a point that James wanted to ignore. Harry's advice was all well and good, but he didn't understand. James had _trusted_ Peter. He had _loved_ Peter like a brother. James had trusted Peter with Harry and Lily's lives, and the rat had betrayed that. Trust like that was something far deeper than Harry understood.

It was something Harry would continue not to understand, not until he had a child and wife of his own.

James couldn't just let betrayal like that slide. Not while he still had a son to protect, not while his best friends could be targets. And most importantly, not while he still drew breath.

"I can't." James said.

"You won't." Harry countered.

It was true, James knew that. He wouldn't let Peter get away with what he had done. "I know." James told Harry sadly. Not sadly because of the words, but what the words meant to his son.

"Then promise me you'll think if you ever meet him. Force yourself too. Promise me you'll be careful." Harry begged, this time staring at his father, not letting the older man from his gaze. "And promise me you won't go looking for him."

James looked back at his desperate son. He knew Harry was afraid for him, and he hated that. "If I ever see Peter, Harry, I won't stop. But I will promise you that I won't go looking for him." He promised this though everything inside him was screaming not to. "I promise I'll use my head, and I'll be careful."

Before the final word was out of his mouth, Harry had lunged forward to grab his father into a hug. James hugged him back with the same ferocity.

"That's all I want." Harry whispered.

**---------------------------------Later That Night**

"I stayed with Moony as long as I could. He just kicked me out." Sirius whispered as he walked back into his room. He took in the sight in front of him with a small smile. Harry was curled up against James peacefully sleeping.

Sometimes, when Harry slept, Sirius could forget the awful destiny his godson had before him.

Beside Harry, James chuckled lightly. "I knew it was only a matter of time." He returned, equally as quiet. Neither one of them wanted to wake Harry when he looked so peaceful.

"What did he need to talk to about?" Sirius asked, though he had a marginal idea based off the quick rambling sentence that Harry had emitted at the door. He sat down in chair opposite the father son duo.

James sighed, "He had a vision." He said, knowing htat Sirius knew all about those. In fact, Sirius probably knew more.

The words had their desired effect, for Sirius understood instantly. His eyes strayed from James down to Harry, who slept on completely oblivious to the worry he was causing his two caretakers. "Is he all right?"

"I think he is now." James said with a frown. He too looked down at Harry and tangled a hand in his son's wild hair.

Sirius nodded, then posed the question James really hoped wouldn't be asked, "What was the vision about?"

Looking up from his son, James turned back to Sirius with a heavy sigh. He knew that Sirius would be as angry as he had been. The positions were reversed, and now James knew exactly what Harry had been faced with before. "Peter and Voldemort."

As it had been with James, the response was instantaneous. "That little bastard. I can't…"

Sirius would have continued - it was clear he had enough insults stored to do so - but James stopped him. He was too tired to be angry. "I know, Sirius. There's nothing you can come up with that I haven't already thought."

"You'd be surprised." Sirius muttered, "I've had almost a decade and a half to come up with some really colorful ones."

James had to smile, despite the seriousness of the situation. Sirius had always been good at breaking him out of depressed ruts. James ducked his head back down to Harry, and in the process missed the fond smile Sirius gave him.

"And, no doubt, little Pronglet here became oh so worried about what Daddy Prongs was going to do to poor little Wormtail?" Sirius asked sarcastically, hoping to keep things lighter. It would do them more good than yelling and being angry. Sirius learned that the hard way a long time ago.

"He made me promise not to go looking for him. And then he made me promise to think first and be careful should I happen to run into Peter." James informed Sirius, ignoring the little sarcastic jibe Sirius had made before he'd started speaking. Sometimes, with Sirius, it was just easier to ignore things and move on – especially without questioning them.

Sirius broke out into another smile. Harry had to have known that James could never have broken a promise to him, no matter what. By making him promise those particular things, he'd made the chance of James repeating Sirius's mistakes far more slim than they'd been before.

Sirius wasn't the only Marauder who acted first and thought later when angry.

"Smart boy." Sirius praised when James looked back up at him.

James leaned down to kiss Harry's forehead. "I know."

* * *

_That took me far longer than I'd expected it would. I hope you liked the chapter! I'm going to post spoilers for the next one, along with the frequently asked questions and their answers on my livejournal later today. I decided to stop cluttering the story up with such long authors notes, since the Q&A always takes a page or two. So head on over to there to see if your question got answered._

_I'd do it right now instead of later tonight, but I really do need to get back to cleaning my room before my mother cracks the whip!_

_**Stars Enchantress**_

_**Next up in The Return of the Father**: Spell Castings _


	34. Spell Castings

**The Return of the Father: **_Spell Castings_

_

* * *

Hello to all, and thank you to the lurkers. I'm glad you all enjoyed the chapter last time around, and here is your chapter for this update. _

_**--------------------------------Sanctuary **_

The only sounds that could be heard from the common room of Hogwarts' hidden wing were that of quills scratching and pages turning. One would have thought that they'd made a few wrong turns at some point and had made their way to the library, rather than a secret hideaway of three friends.

Had Hermione not been so focused on the words ahead of her, she might have smiled in satisfaction from the sight of her two best friends working so hard. And had Ron not been so focused, he might have been disgusted by his studious actions.

Neither of them noticed this though, for no other thoughts were filtering through their minds. Instead, all three were focused on the words in front of them in the books strewn across the table, they were glued to their quills, ignoring the steadily building writer's cramp that was taking over their fingers.

They had more important things to work on. Things that were close to being finished.

It had been a long process. One that, pride and determination aside, they had always had doubts of it's chance of completion. They were undergoing something so dangerous that through time it had been labeled as impossible. This was the last step, this was what they needed to complete.

The minutes dragged on, and the silence was broken only briefly as Hermione closed her book, set down her quill and leaned back into her chair. The other two boys didn't even look up – they'd known she'd finish her words first.

Soon after Harry finished, and he took closed his numerous reference books and dictionaries. Barely moments later, as Harry was stretching a knot out of his back, Ron slammed his book shut with a broad smile.

"Done." He cheerfully announced. The look on his face clearly suggested that he was more than sick of bookwork and would refuse to even step foot near a library for the rest of the summer. Harry couldn't really blame him either.

Hermione nodded, satisfied. Her eyes strayed momentarily to the potion that was happily bubbling in its cauldron. It would help their bodies change into their second forms while they repeated the spells they'd written. "Let's see what you've got." She said, picking up Harry's first. Her eyes skimmed over the final sentence, the incantation to turn him into a lion, with critical eyes. One wrong word could have disastrous results.

Seemingly satisfied with Harry's, she passed it off to Ron to read. Harry had already taken hers and was reading over it carefully. Hermione then picked up Ron's paper. Barely a word into it, she looked up at the nervous redhead. "Centaurus?"

"Half man, half horse." Ron defended. "I think it applies to the situation, don't you?" he asked with his eyebrow raised.

Harry leaned forward to read the paper that Hermione had been criticizing. "Interesting use." He commented offhandedly.

Hermione wasn't to be placated though. "Are you sure that's the best word to include? Ron? That could turn you into a centaur or something. Or you could get stuck halfway though - " she worried.

Ron gently – though firmly – cut her off. " 'Mione, it'll be fine. Trust me." He said, confidence oozing from his voice. Clearly Ron knew what he wanted the words of his spell to be.

A worried little frown still marred Hermione's face, but she said nothing else. Harry took the opportunity to drag her attention away from Ron's use of centaurus in his spell. "Is that done?" He asked with a nod towards the potion.

"It was done three hours ago." Hermione informed him. The two boys had tried to help with the potion as much as possible, but really, it was mostly Hermione who'd made it.

Harry sighed and stood up, resolve filling his every thought. "Me first again, I think."

"Always the martyr." Ron mumbled unhappily.

Trying to ignore the harsh but accurate description of himself, Harry didn't turn to reply to Ron. He had gotten them started in the pursuit of becoming animagi, he would be the one to test all the steps involved.

As Hermione spoon a nauseatingly large portion of the cauldron's contents into a goblet for him, Harry's mind couldn't help but wander to his father. What would James say to his son following in his footsteps? On one end, Harry was sure his father would be proud of him – ecstatic even. But on that other end, where the marauder ended and the loving father began, he knew that his father wouldn't want him taking such a risk – especially alone.

There were risks, but something inside Harry told him that this would turn out all right. He had to follow that – he wouldn't turn back now.

Hermione passed the goblet to him, the worried little frown still firmly in place on her face. He was fairly certain it would remain until every last transformation had occurred.

Harry looked down into the goblet in his hands. It might not have smelled as bad as the first, but the first potion certainly hadn't been steaming. The greenish bits floating towards the top of a black potion certainly weren't going to calm his gag reflex either. Face pulled into the pinched visage of disgust, Harry looked up slowly from his goblet. "Um…Hermione? Is this supposed to be so – ahh – _chucky_?"

Quickly staring at the contents of his goblet, Hermione picked up the book and opened to the marked page. After a second, she looked up sympathetically, "I'm afraid so."

That fact hardly comforted Harry – or Ron, who was looking in the cauldron with a face so green Harry that Harry could practically match his eyes to it. "And if I didn't take it and just did the spell?"

A stern look was what his question received. "You'll die." Hermione put it bluntly. Sarcasm followed, "Or, if your made of particularly tough stuff, you'll go insane from the extreme agony associated with having your body twist and contort in rather horrible ways without the aid of a potion designed to relax all parts of the body and include a bit of a numbing agent."

"Way to paint a lovely picture there, Hermione!" Ron exclaimed, backing away from the potion.

Horrible picture or not, Hermione's description had done it's job and Harry was again looking at his rather nasty cocktail. There was no putting it off - that much was clear. Remembering Hermione's tactic for blocking unwanted and unsavory smells during the last potion, Harry plugged his nose and closed his eyes. Maybe if he didn't _see_ the chunks going towards his mouth…

In the end, it didn't end up working so well anyway. Nothing could lessen the horror of the potion. Every fiber in his being fought against having to swallow the thick concoction. Forget Skelegrow or Polyjuice. Drinking liquefied Draco Malfoy would taste better.

Finishing with one last disgusting gulp, Harry set the goblet down while fighting the urge to vomit.

Before he could comment on the taste, a strange shivery feeling went through his body. Harry could hardly describe it, for he'd never felt anything like it before. It felt as though he was empty, weightless. There wasn't anything in him – he was just an essence or ghost. He knew it wasn't true, that he was still right there and quite whole, but it felt the opposite.

Panting as though he'd run a mile, though he was only doing it out of shock, Harry looked up at Hermione. "Bit of a numbing agent? Hermione, I've got about as much feeling in me as Moaning Myrtle!"

"Really? Wicked." Ron breathed. He reached out and poked Harry in the side.

Jumping back, Harry frowned at his over enthusiastic friend. "Hey! I can feel that you know. It's just…different. Now that whole spot is tingly, thanks."

"Sorry." Ron apologized, not sounding like he meant it at all.

"Just wait 'till it's your turn." Harry muttered under his breath. He turned back to Hermione, who had been watching the whole exchange with a smirk on her face. "Spell next?"

She shook her head, and Harry idly wondered if there were any other horrible potions waiting. Instead Hermione merely took out her wand. "Redecoration, I should think." She commented lightly, and then muttered a spell under her breath. The furniture neatly stacked itself on the far wall. "Thank goodness that we can do magic this summer, since we're at Hogwarts."

"Why'd you do that?" Ron asked, coming to stand next to Harry.

"We're about to have a full grown lion and horse in here, Ron." Hermione replied with exasperation. "Or did you think you'd fit between the couch and the coffee table?"

Ron, at least, had the good grace to look embarrassed, but Harry wasn't about to let them argue any more. He was too anxious. "_Now_ is it time?"

Hermione surveyed, the room, then looked back at Harry. He could see her own anxiousness reflected back in her eyes. "Yes."

The moment the word was out of her mouth, all excited nervous energy left him. This was a big step. No turning back. Harry could have smacked himself for thinking in that way and building himself up more, but he couldn't stop himself.

He wasn't really sure how this was supposed to go, but starting out in the middle of the room sounded like a reasonable idea. Hermione and Ron immediately backed away towards the sides of the room as though here were going to blow up, which hardly bolstered his confidence. He sent them a weak smile before picking up the piece of paper he'd written his incantation on.

"Say it loud and clearly." Hermione reminded, trying desperately to sound more supportive than worried. She only half achieved her goal.

Harry nodded as Ron sent him the thumbs up. He was trying hard not to remember the last time that he'd been told to say something clearly and the result of not doing so. Clearing his throat, Harry spoke.

"_Croceus Leo Fortis Armipotens Praepotens Entis Decus Audentia_"

The words left his tongue in a slow – thankfully clear – string. As the final word finished, the transformation began.

He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, though he knew he'd been thinking along the lines of Sirius's quick blink-of-the-eye transformations. His, however, was far from it.

His eyes closed the second the strange feeling of turning inside out began. He could practically feel his insides changing shape and moving around inside of him. The feeling wasn't exactly painful – he highly suspected that without the potion it would have been – it was just foreign. The feeling almost scared him, and made him feel more than a little nauseous.

He felt the rest of him start morphing soon after his insides had started. Body parts changed and took new shapes, joints realigned themselves and – most frighteningly – the strange feeling of sprouting hair all over and rapidly started. He could hear the awed gasp of Hermione as his senses sharpened. He knew that had he kept his eyes open, he would have done the same.

As abruptly as it had started, it stopped. He kept his eyes closed, half out of shock and half out of fear. It something had gone wrong, he'd plan on staying close eyed the rest of his life.

"Harry?" He heard Ron's voice. It sounded more than a little tentative, and Harry could practically _smell_ the concern coming off of Ron in waves. "That is you…right?"

Knowing he couldn't put off the inevitable any longer, Harry cautiously peaked open his eyes.

He knew instantly that it had worked. Ron and Hermione, while a little shocked, weren't looking at him as though he were a deformed monster. Looking down at his own body, Harry could see his own paws. He'd done it. He was really a lion.

"Here, Harry, look." Hermione said, rushing to her bag to grab a compact mirror. Enlarging it, Harry could see most of his body, so long as Hermione took a bit of a step back.

This was definitely the lion that he'd seen in his hallucination – which of course made sense. His own – much larger – green eyes stared back at him.

And of course, his golden mane stood up just as messily as ever.

* * *

After the relatively easy task of turning himself back, Harry again stood before Ron and Hermione as himself. Gone where his feelings of nervousness or anxiousness. Now he only had an intense feeling of accomplishment.

"Here Ron, you next." Hermione said, handing the steaming goblet to Ron. Surprisingly though, he pushed it back towards her. "What?"

Shrugging, Ron replied, "I think you should get to go before me. I did get to see what I was first, now you can be it first."

Hermione seemed quite surprised that Ron wasn't anxiously waiting to get his turn. Instead of arguing though, she just accepted the uncharacteristic bit of maturity and smiled gratefully. "Thank you." She muttered.

"Say that now, you won't be when you drink _that_." Harry said, tipping his head in the goblet's direction. His grin was as wide as ever though, not even faltering for the memory of the disgusting taste that he'd endured.

The female in the room smiled softly at Harry's perpetual good mood. Picking up the goblet herself, Hermione followed the same procedure as Harry had, pinch the nose, tilt the head and throw it back as quickly as possible without gagging.

Hermione finished with a pale face and closed eyes. Groaning quietly as possible she fought the urge to run and get some water to rinse her mouth out with – an action which would render the potion useless. "I was hoping you were exaggerating Harry."

"I wish I had been." Harry returned, rubbing her back sympathetically. "But the after effects are pretty interesting, right?"

She took a moment to respond, but Harry knew she was mentally agreeing. When the shivery sensations subsided, Hermione nodded and smiled at him. With a deep breath, she walked shakily to the center of the room.

Seeing that Hermione's nerves were getting the best of her, Ron called over to her. "Say it loud and clearly." He said, teasing her with her words from earlier. In addition to saying it, he wagged a "stern" finger in her direction.

"I hope that's not an impression of me!" she said, grinning all the same. Ron's little reminder had done well.

With a deep breath, Hermione began.

_"Noctua Persapiens Entis Era Luna Circumvolo En Intempesta Nox"_

The two boys watched her say the words, confidence refusing her the chance to stumble over the different language's pronunciations.

"That's a bit involved, don't you think?" Ron whispered over to Harry. He didn't say anything back, but he knew Ron was right. Hermione had really gone the extra mile with hers.

With baited breath they watched Hermione change before their very eyes. Harry knew suddenly why Hermione had gasped, he was hard pressed to do the same. It was more than a little strange – and unnerving – to see one of his best friends slowly grow smaller and smaller, all the while developing talons, feathers and a beak.

All and all, it looked like a slowed down version of the spell that had made Peter Pettigrew turn back into his human form.

After what seemed like a century, Hermione had finished. Harry let out a breath of relief that she had managed to do the transformation perfectly. Though, really, it was Hermione.

Ron reached across the table for the mirror that Hermione had enlarged for Harry. He walked over and knelt in front of the small owl. "Mostly feathers is right! Are you sure you're there, Hermione?" he asked.

The owl hooted indigently.

"Oh, it's her alright." Harry confirmed. "Want to give a go at flying now, Hermione?" he directed to the creature starting at itself in the mirror.

She tore her eyes away from her rather different reflection to stare at Harry. Owl or not, Harry knew her eyes enough to know she looked a little nervous.

"Come on now, Hermione, you have to give it a shot!" Harry coaxed. "I'll let you perch on my arm so you've got a good height to start at. And if you take a dive – which I don't think will happen – Ron and I can catch you."

Whether it was his reassurances, or the insult of having a bird caught from falling through the air that persuaded her, Hermione nodded her head to agree. Harry knelt in Ron's spot as the redhead rushed to put the mirror back before their impromptu flying session. As he held his arm steady, Hermione gingerly stepped on it. Harry stood again, and frowned lightly at Hermione. "More balance less talons, if you would."

Hermione loosened her grip.

"Thank you." Harry replied to her action. He nodded to Ron, who was standing a few feet in front of him. The taller boy had himself braced as though he would need to lunge to catch Hermione.

"We're ready when you are, Hermione." Harry said, hoping his voice was reassuring.

They'd expected her to procrastinate about it a good deal before slowly taking flight, so when Hermione all of a sudden just flew right off Harry's arm, they had been a little startled.

It seemed that Harry's earlier assessment that Hermione would be able to fly, though not be spectacular at it, was pretty accurate. She flew about the room a little wobbly – something neither of them had encountered often in a bird. The point of the matter was though, she wasn't falling.

"I can't believe that _this_ is what it took to get her in the air!" Ron whispered over to Harry.

* * *

"Are you planning on drinking that?" Hermione ground out.

She'd said it a bit harsh, Harry thought, but he couldn't bring himself to be annoyed with her. Ron had been staring at the goblet for a little over five minutes. Either he was hoping that if he stared at it hard enough, it would magically transfer to his stomach or he was having a serious case of sensitive gag reflex.

"I'm trying to get the nerve to do it." Ron responded defensively. Of course, staring at the potion wasn't making him any braver.

Pointing this out, Harry said, "You have to just do it. If you wait then you'll never drink that."

Whimpering slightly, Ron pinched his nose shut dramatically. He eyed the potion as though it were a baby dragon coming to get him. His face scrunched up as he forced his arm closer to his mouth, subsequently bringing the goblet closer to his lips than he really wanted it to be. With one last theatrical shudder, Ron drowned the potion so fast that Harry wasn't sure how he did it. Clearly Ron was hoping that if he drank it fast enough then he wouldn't have time to register the flavor.

Harry could have told him that it wouldn't have worked.

"Horrible." Ron whispered when he brought the goblet back down from his face. He had an unattractive greenish tinge to him.

Hermione patted his arm in a comforting gesture, proving she didn't really mean her harsh tone from before. Ron accepted the unspoken apology and actually ended up holding on to her shoulder when the effects of the potion took him by surprise. "Wow."

"My feeling on the subject entirely." Harry retorted with a knowing smirk. "Well, after you." He said, holding his arms out in the universal gesture of "right this way".

"I trust you don't need to hear the speak clearly reminder for a third time?" Hermione asked, knowing she had just reminded him anyway. Ron rolled his eyes at her as he made his way towards the center of the room and safely away from any furniture.

"No, Hermione, I think I'll manage." Ron responded. Harry had expected him to agonize over starting his spell, but he didn't. With a final clearing of his throat as Harry had done, he incanted his spell.

_"Ecus Centaurus Fides Perfidelis Fidentia Lacertosus Pervicacia Animo Polleo Indomitus"_

Harry waited on baited breath. He couldn't wait for the process to be over, and them all to be animagi. He had no doubts that Ron would be able to do it.

Ron had gotten a funny look on his face, most likely in response to the strange sensation of your whole inner body changing shape and moving around. It wasn't a feeling Harry hoped would stay apart of every transformation. Sirius and his father transformed so quickly that Harry doubted they felt anything like that anymore. It was most likely a first time thing.

It was interesting to see almost the opposite of Hermione's transformation occur in Ron. She had gotten smaller and smaller to become the small owl that she was. Ron was far more than a little owl. He grew quickly, getting even taller than he had started out.

In the end, it was probably good that Hermione had moved the furniture, for Ron wouldn't have fit with all of it in his foot space – or really, hoof space.

"A bay." He heard Hermione whisper next to him when Ron had completed his transformation. Harry had been confused at first, until he realized that a bay was the type of horse Ron was. He was a dark orange red color – a color that fit him perfectly.

Ron threw his head up at them and neighed a bit. Harry grinned at that and edged closer to the small animal. After all, if Ron had managed to get up close to a lion then Harry should be able to deal with a less threatening horse. Then again, Ron looked like he could definitely do some damage. "You did it, Ron." Harry praised. "I could get you a sugar cube as a prize if you'd like?"

Again, Ron nudged Harry with his head. There was force behind the movement, but it was clear that Ron was trying to be careful. Harry laughed at his friend's wordless reprimand.

* * *

"Cheers to three of the smartest students this school has to offer!" Harry cried, holding his mug of butterbeer out alongside Ron and Hermione's. The three had run down to the kitchens to get some celebratory treats. It had taken quite a bit of convincing to get Dobby to allow them some butterbeer, but in the end a direct plea from Harry had gotten them their drinks of choice.

"I can't believe this." Ron muttered, taking a long drink of his butterbeer. "If Fred and George knew…"

Hermione cut in quickly, "Which they never will."

"But still!" Ron countered, "They would die. Especially if they knew that we got our inspiration from their idols."

Snickering lightly, Harry couldn't help the mental image that produced. "Could you imagine the looks on their faces when they find out that they were taught for a year by Moony?"

"It would be priceless." Ron agreed, laughing. Even Hermione seemed to find the image funny.

Adding in her own fun, Hermione pointed something else out, "Or that they returned the Marauder's map to a Marauder's son!"

"They'll be shocked that Harry's a Marauder's son, full stop." Ron stated, giving the blushing Harry a look.

Decided to get back at Ron a little, Harry gave him a shove, "You just imagine their faces when they find out that you knew who they were for years and didn't say a word."

Surprisingly, Ron didn't pale at the pranks that would be served as punishment for such a thing. Instead, he shrugged, "Payback for not telling me about the map in the first place, I'm their brother!"

"You think you would be over that by now, Ron!" Hermione cried, rolling her eyes and the worn defense that Ron used. They really had heard it a lot since that day in Hogsmeade in third year.

Whatever Ron had to say to Hermione's final comment wasn't ever articulated. He never got the chance before the entire castle shook on its foundation.

The violent shake of the castle startled the three Gryffindors. To Harry and Hermione it felt as though there was a huge earthquake that had happened, though they knew that was most likely impossible. As the first tremor stopped, they said nothing. Not even a full minute later, it happened again, more powerful than before. Harry gripped the table as some of the books fell off the shelves.

"What is it?" Harry whispered, though he didn't know why he was whispering.

Ron shook his head, having no explanation. Hermione breathed harshly in fear, but she too didn't know what to say. A third round of shaking hit the castle full on, making Hermione scream in fright.

A horrible thought ran through Harry, and he stood up quickly. Ron and Hermione stood also, but didn't seem to know what Harry was doing. Without pausing to explain, Harry raced down the hallway in their wing. They all gripped the wall for support as a fourth tremor occurred.

"Harry!" Hermione yelled, worried.

Still Harry said nothing. How could he with the idea he had in his mind? He hoped with everything in him it wasn't true and that the shakes were nothing more than a particularly nasty prank from the Marauders or Weasely twins. In his hear though, he knew it couldn't have been them. Shaking the Burrow on its foundation was a far cry from shaking a castle as ancient and huge as Hogwarts.

Throwing open the door to the room with all the names on the walls, Harry scrambled to see the red writing. There were few people at Hogwarts in the summer, so it was easy enough to keep track of everyone. Harry raced to one wall, scanning down the list. "Macnair, Nott, Crabbe…" he whispered frantically leading his finger down the list of red names. Red meant visitors, red meant that they weren't supposed to be there.

"Death Eaters, these are all Death Eaters!" Ron cried, eyes searching down the list of about twenty names. He felt his whole body cease up with the implications of what those names meant.

Hermione didn't stop to read the list like the boys had. She turned around the moment Ron had confirmed what Harry had read aloud. "Hermione!" Harry called out to her as she left the room in a rush.

The two teens exchanged a look as they ran out after her. Scanning the hallway, they saw only one other door open. The room with the mirrors in it, the room they'd dubbed for surveillance.

Apprehension and fear laced their bodies as they ran to follow Hermione. When the entered, they saw her staring at one mirror in particular - the mirror showing the front end of the castle.

In it they saw the people listed on the wall. Death Eaters marched towards the castle, wands drawn and curses flying. One curse flew from the front Death Eater's wand and hit the castle dead on, making the whole thing shake again. It was them who were causing the tremors.

The three watched in horror as their loved ones raced out of the safety of the castle, their own wands drawn. Ron watched his brother's yell out names of random curses to throw back at the army descending upon them. Harry's eyes stayed glued to his father's form as he rushed forward, readiness and determination filling his eyes. This wasn't the first battle James Potter would fight in.

And as the spells of the two sides connected with each other, it was clear what was happening.

Hogwarts was under attack.

_

* * *

I am immensely sorry for the long wait for this chapter. I wasn't having an easy time of writing it, and this has been re-written more times than I care to count. There's a lot going on in this chapter, and this was the closest I got to getting it the way I wanted, though I'm still not sure if I'm pleased or not. _

_Enjoy the cliffhanger, and please review! _

_**Stars Enchantress**_

**Coming Next in Return of the Father : **_The First Battle _


	35. The First Battle

**The Return of the Father: **_The First Battle_

_

* * *

Thank you so much to all of the reviewers for the last chapter. I had a great time reading all of the reviews for the cliffhanger!_

_Also, this chapter is in fact a battle (hence the chapter title). I've had to make up a few spells for it. Every time a word that doesn't look English pops up in italics, chances are it's a spell/curse/jinx whatever. I've tried to make it so the description of what it does comes right after the word or in the sentence or two before/after. When you're done reading, if you'd like, you can go to my live journal, and I'll have a list of them all there so you can make sure you've got it all._

_Oh, and to who ever asked me where I get all these spells, they're from an online Latin translator. Chances are they're horribly out of context, or used in the wrong form, but I don't really mind. If you were to look them up, you'd see what I meant perfectly, as the words all mean the right thing in English._

_**--Hogwarts --**_

Battle was never meant to be pretty.

It was never meant to be a glorified way to bring honor or solve disputes.

That was never the purpose, no matter how the people had changed and distorted it's true meaning to fit the bedtime stories they told their children.

Battle was bloody, battle was equally horrifying for the good and the bad. The lines of ally and enemy were blurred, as survival became the sole concern. Innocence was lost is the flick of a wand, muttering of an incantation or thrust of a sword.

For most, battle and war were distant words that were used in places they ought not be. Children played games of it, fighting their friends in a simplistic – _safe_ – game of good and bad, evil and light.

Hogwarts castle had seen it's share of battles, its grounds had soaked up the blood shed and sheltered the innocents from battle's gruesome truth. This battle was not simplistic, it was not safe. And truly, none in it had expected it to be.

It marked something, the coming of a real war. For battle was a day, battle was that moment in time.

In each spell against the other side, the castor was telling their enemy one thing.

_This is the start of the war, this is not over. When the sun breaks and the battle is over, the true war will emerge and be as violent as the differences between muggle and magical._

They knew it had been coming. They knew from the day the rest of the world had declared it over that they would have to come together on other battlefields to finish what the Dark Lord had started. One way or another, they were not finished with the war.

It wasn't accurate to say that the second war was coming. This was the first war, fought again after an intermission – a regrouping. No matter how many were lost nearly fifteen years ago, there were now more to take their places, willing to lay down their lives to join in the fighting.

The ones who survived would be hardened by their own actions, and the actions saw happen to others. They would create the next generation, a generation who knew nothing of war and battle – creating innocence among the people again.

Someday, the war would end, and battle would cease to be fought. The generations would grow up, never forgetting, but never teaching how to prevent it from happening again.

Then, distantly in the future when so many of the war survivors were gone, another would rise up with their own beliefs and ways to challenge the peace. They would create a new persona, more frightening than the one before it. They would gather their followers, committing acts that would grow in severity. An army of light would clash with the new army of dark and they would fight the first battle of many, echoing the same curses that had been thrown decades, centuries or even millennia before.

Nothing could stop it, it was the way the world – both magical and muggle, operated. It was the way things would always be.

The newest battle fought on the grounds of Hogwarts castle was not the worst that had ever been fought, nor was it the longest.

But somehow, it was always the first battle of the war that caused the greatest loss of innocence.

_**--Side Grounds – Hogwarts--**_

Harry had fought Death Eater's before. He'd fought Voldemort himself more times than many could claim to have seen him.

He wasn't bragging, nor did he think that was anything to boast about. That said, Harry did believe that it did give him a bit of an edge than say, Charlie Weasley, who had never fought a Death Eater before in his life.

How could it not? He'd gotten exceptionally good at dodging unforgivables and his _expelliarmus_ was like none other. In all the duels that he'd been in with Voldemort, that had been enough. With his new knowledge of a wide range of spells, he'd thought he could handle being on a real battlefield.

Now, staring down his masked challenger, he didn't feel as confident. Not after he'd seen so many people – Death Eater or otherwise – being cursed into oblivion.

Not after he'd seen Hermione take on two Death Eaters by herself, or seen Ron standing over the unconscious body of his father shouting out curses against the one who'd hurt him.

How could he when he'd seen Sirius get spun backwards when he'd been glanced by a spell or listened as Bill yelled for Charlie to watch out?

Somehow, it was less frightening to take on Voldemort alone than it was to stand in a field filled with allies and enemies. He had more control then, he didn't have to listen to the fighting around him, nor did he have to worry about everyone else he loved.

"Is the little boy scared?"

The cruel voice startled Harry, and he mentally slapped himself for daring to let his mind slip from the fight around him for even the briefest of seconds. The Death Eater in front of him was taunting him, trying to believe that he wasn't strong enough to fight. Harry might be scared, but he would never back down. "Of you? Never…" he hissed back, gripping his wand tighter.

"Shame, you really should be. You've only gotten by on luck before. Dumbledore was always there to save you if things got too difficult. Look at him now, Potter, look at your great savior." The masked man taunted. The voice didn't sound familiar, and Harry was fairly certain that he hadn't heard it before. It certainly was the distinctive aristocratic tones of Lucius Malfoy, or the terrified stutter or Peter Pettigrew.

At the moment though, the voice didn't matter, it was what the voice said that did. Deciding to spare a glance at the last place Harry'd seen Dumbledore, he flashed his eyes away from the Death Eater. It was probably not the smartest thing to do, but he had to know. Luckily for him, this Death Eater seemed to have the smallest amount of honor, and didn't curse him while his eyes were diverted.

He felt his heart clench when he did turn. Dumbledore was fighting a small army of his own, nearly ten Death Eaters. No longer did he look like a feeble elderly Headmaster with an addiction to lemon drops. No longer would Harry ever look at him the same. Suddenly, the memory of Dumbledore picking him up at the end of the third task wasn't contradictory to the old man's facade, but rather an enforcer of it.

Never again would Harry think of him as anything but immensely powerful.

As his whole perception of the Headmaster changed, Harry's feelings about his own fight did also. If a man well into his hundreds could face ten Death Eater's, then surely Harry could defeat his single foe? Determination flowed through him, and Harry knew he could do it.

He turned his eyes back towards the Death Eater slowly, letting the man underneath the robes know that he would not be beaten. The Death Eater sneered, though it was hard to tell through the shifting of the mask alone. Without warning or further banter, the man spat, "_Coniectio!"_

Harry threw himself to the side to avoid being hit with the curse for hurling him backwards. The blue flare of the spell missed him by feet. Before he had even stopped rolling on the ground, Harry pointed his wand up and shouted, "_Expelliarmus_!"

The Death Eater wasn't completely useless, and he dodged the curse rather effectively. Not good for Harry.

Trying again, Harry quickly stood and yelled, "_Locomotor Mortis!" _

Ducking to avoid the curse, the Death Eater let out a horrible laugh. Harry felt his body shiver at the sound of it. "Not good enough, little one. Come now, where are the real spells? Only ones to stun me? To get my wand from me? You won't survive long like that, Harry James Potter."

"They're real spells." Harry returned, warily standing his ground. "They've worked pretty well against your precious master!"

An angry snarl met his words, **"**_Caeco!" _

Harry ducked in the nick of time. The Death Eater behind him wasn't so lucky. He was hit square on with the black curse. Instantly, the Death Eater dropped to his feet yelling, clawing at his eyes. Harry couldn't remember from the distant readings how long that spell lasted, but for now, the Death Eater was blind.

He swallowed hard and turned away, trying desperately to block out the sounds of a terrified man that would have been him had he reacted any slower. "You've hit one of your own, that's not good."

"He's expendable." Was the reply.

Wasting no time to discuss the sacrificing behavior of the Death Eater in front of him, Harry shouted again, praying his un-wanding spell would hit it's mark this time. The very same moment he spoke, his adversary did also.

"_Expelliarmus_!"

"_Crucio_!"

Only one spell hit.

_------------------------------Hogwarts – Front Grounds_

James fought as though he'd never been gone. He allowed no thought, no conscious presence of mind or emotion to get through. That was how you lost, when you let yourself become desperate or afraid. He couldn't afford to be cocky and arrogant either. It was a mistake that he'd paid the price for during his first fight – a price the tune of a week in St. Mungo's.

He'd learned his lesson well, never allowing himself to let his emotions rule him during a fight.

He just was…he just fought.

It was the only way he knew how to do it. It was the only way that had worked for him.

So he fought, he charged around the field, reminding each person on it that James Potter was a dueler to be reckoned with.

There were new Death Eater's on the field, ones that hadn't been there during the last leg of the war – of that James was certain. They came up to him with a swagger that only a moron would – or Sirius – would use during a fight. They wanted to prove themselves, they had misguided dreams of pleasing their _Master_ by killing James Potter.

Of course, it often went the other way around. In fact, it always went the other way around.

James didn't like killing. That was another reason he'd schooled himself to keep emotion out. It didn't matter to him whether he was doing the world a favor by ridding them all of the piece of slime that he'd been fighting. It didn't matter if the enemy was one of Voldemort's inner circle, or a new recruit out for the first time. He just didn't like, and he was sure he never would.

It was hard, but in the end he did what he had to do.

And _now_, he had to force himself to keep emotion at bay all the more - that green flash of light meant something far more to him.

A horrible cry sounded across the field and James felt his heart stop. He knew that sound, he knew who that was.

_Harry _

James whirled around wildly, eyes frantically searching the sea of masked and unmasked faces. He felt his breath shorten, and all those time honored rules of being emotionless were out the window in a flash. Not when his son was in the fight, not when he was in danger.

His eyes zeroed in on Harry, writhing in the ground. A Death Eater stood over him with a mocking gleam in his eye as he kept his wand level. All at once James knew what was happening to his son. _Cruciatus _had been cast on him. _Cruciatus had been cast on his son._

Anger filled him as he watched his son cry out in pain again. He knew what that curse felt like, and it broke everything inside him to know that Harry hadn't just been through it once, but twice.

With an inhuman cry, James raced forward, wand at the ready. "_Furnunculus!_" His curse hit the mark and the Death Eater was down, howling in pain as the boils sprung up all over his body.

Harry was still across the grass, and James ran best he could with so many obstacles in his way. His heart sped up and thundered against his chest. He could see Harry rolling himself around and kneeling on the ground, he could see him breathing deeply as he fought off the after effects of such a powerful curse. "Harry!" He yelled.

His son looked up, and James could see relief on his face. His whole body started to go cold as the worry nearly choked him. He tried with everything in him to smile to reassure his son that everything would be all right and that James would let nothing happen to him, but he found he couldn't.

"Sirius!"

Remus' voice startled James and he stopped. In front of him, Harry's face crumbled with equal parts fear and worry.

James felt them before he saw them.

Slowly, he turned away from his horror stricken son and towards the Forbidden Forest. There they were, nearly eighty dementors, floating towards them. James could feel the whole castle shiver under their outstretched hands and unseeing pursuit of whomever they could reach.

A hundred feet or so ahead of him, Sirius lay in a shivering heap. It only stood to reason that they affected him so much worse - he'd been with them for so long. Remus was trying to reach him, but there was too much chaos erupting around him to get very far.

Reason flew out of James's head, and apparently it was the same for Remus too, for neither tried their own patroni, though James's was far weaker than Remus's. It was all he could do to stand there, watching them come closer, feeling their effects.

_"Lily! It's him! Take Harry and go! I'll hold him off."_

He'd failed. The pain of losing Lily rushed back up inside of him, replacing the joy of having his son again.

_"James, are you sure we can trust Peter?" _

"_I trust him with my life, Lily, Peter will help us." _

Memories flew through his mind, replaying every moment of Peter's deceit, every moment that he'd ever spent defending Peter, and every time he promised Lily or Harry he would protect him.

Silently, James slid to the ground.

_----------------------------------Hogwarts – Side Grounds_

Harry watched his father's knees give out as the Dementor's proved to be too much against his memories. He could feel them too - he could hear his mother screaming. The pull of unconsciousness was tempting, and so easy to give in to.

But as the Death Eater's glided closer to his godfather, as they rounded in on Ron and the already unconscious Arthur Weasley, as they made Hermione scream and Bill retreat, he knew he couldn't just sit there and do nothing. He had to save them, he had to make them leave his father's memories in the past where they belonged.

His whole body protested against standing, he was so very sore after the unforgivable cast on him. He shivered, and it wasn't from the cold the creatures in front of him induced. It was shivering from pain, from the injuries deep inside of him. He could do nothing for that now, and tried his best to ignore it.

Harry took a step forward, towards his father, but fell. "No." he whispered, crashing to the ground. The curse had been held so long. Too long.

The Dementors were closer, they'd circled Ron and his father. He could see Ron's white face, tight with fear, staring up at them as he held his father close to him. How did Ron feel? Was he more afraid of losing his father, or losing himself? Harry knew how he felt.

He wouldn't let anything happen to either of them, he just couldn't. If he didn't get up then his own father would be next. "Dad." Harry cried, standing up again.

Determination and a rush of adrenalin were the only things keeping him up.

Quickly he shut his eyes and tried to envision a clear sky. He let himself feel the rush of the air around him as he dove for the snitch. The feeling of flying, the feeling he loved so much, enveloped him_. "Expecto Patronum!"_ he cried.

A wisp of light came out of his wand, barely making the Dementors falter. He needed more power, a better memory. What better did he have though? Flying had always worked. He didn't have the time to retrace his largely depressing childhood for a memory that would suit his needs, not when the Dementors were next to his father. Not when they were kissing a Death Eater next to Ron and his father or when Sirius was being swooped in on. He didn't have time, things were moving too fast.

He watched his father cry out for his mother's forgiveness. Did he hear her scream like Harry could? Thoughts rushed through his mind at a fevered pace, making Harry even more dizzy. He had to take control, he had to help his father.

The memory of standing in the Hospital Wing and seeing James there, looking at him with such love in his eyes, came flowing into his consciousness. Hearing his father answer the question of who he was with details of devotion rang inside of him. The feeling of his father's arms around him and the safety that came with it was right there.

"_EXPECTO PATRONUM!"_

The stag raced forward, erupting from his wand as powerful as ever. He saw it chase away the Dementors near his father.

A weak smile graced Harry's lips before it all went dark.

* * *

_I tell you, this chapter was very against being written. I've been through seven – count them – drafts of it. I've started this chapter a billion times, only to get halfway through and realize it was absolute crap. I'm not that impressed with what you've just read either, but it's been the best I could come up with._

_I apologize for the delay._

_I hope you liked the end result, and please let me know either way._

_**Stars Enchantress **_

_COMING SOON in Return of the Father: Aftermath_


	36. Aftermath

**The Return of the Father: **_Aftermath_

_

* * *

Thank you to all of the amazing reviewers from the last chapter. Have I mentioned lately how much I appreciate it?_

_-------------------------------Hospital Wing_

He really shouldn't have been so surprised.

Truly, how many times had he woken up to that horrible disinfectant smell of the obsessively clean Hospital Wing? And considering what his last memories were, it really should have been expected.

Madame Pomfrey was rather obsessive with her patients – or victims, depending on your tolerance for medical help – and there had truly been no way could have escaped her so soon after being involved with a battle.

And yet, when Harry had drifted slowly back into awareness, he'd been mildly shocked to find himself lying in the infirmary. At the moment though, the covers were just too comfy, and he was just too sore. He wanted nothing more than to drift back asleep for the rest of the summer.

He was only allowed to pursue that goal for a few moments before he realized what his memories implied. Had his patronus worked? Was everyone all right? Harry's eyes snapped open and he shot up in bed, looking around wildly.

"Hey, hey, stop that. It's all right now, you're safe." A gentle voice quietly soothed. Harry turned to see his father.

"You're all right." He whispered, finding that his voice was raspy and sore. He'd done so much screaming and yelling before, it was no small wonder that he was able to speak at all, what with the urgent need of driving away the dementors gone.

He was slightly surprised that Madame Pomfrey hadn't cleared that right up, but considering what put him in the hospital wing, it could very well have been an issue of having many more important injuries to treat, considering how many beds he could see filled in his limited line of vision from the bed.

James gave him a small smile before pushing him back onto the bed. "I'm fine." He reassured. "How do you feel?"

Harry was about to open his mouth, but James covered it, "Nod for good, shake for bad. Pomfrey said to hold off on speaking while you can, at least for a few more hours when she can check you out again."

He found that strange, considering she was usually right there bustling about next to him when he woke. Even if she wasn't, the person next to him usually had strict instructions to get her when he did wake. Brushing it away as his father didn't want to share him quite yet, Harry shrugged his answer. He wasn't about to admit to feeling as horrible as he did, but he didn't want to lie either.

If his father's weak grin was any indication, he knew exactly what his son had been thinking. "You're still stuck here for a few days anyway." He said.

Wincing, Harry thought about how torturous that would be. As comfortable as the beds of the Hospital Wing were, he still wanted to be back in the Tower. That particular battle was one he'd fight later though, when his dad felt good and guilty for his boredom in the infirmary.

Harry took the silence that followed as an opportunity to study his father. He looked all right, no visible wear and tear.

What Harry didn't like was the way his _eyes_ looked. There might not have been anything wrong _physically_, but something was worrying his father. Trying his best to communicate without words – a rule he predicted would soon be annoying, if it wasn't all ready, just where _was_ Madame Pomfrey? – Harry gestured to his father with, what he hoped was, a concerned look on his face.

James knew what Harry was asking. He knew he looked worried and more than a little tired. How could he not? He'd been splitting every spare moment between Harry and the search. Sleeping for more than an hour was simply a luxury he could not afford.

Smiling best he could, which wasn't very much, James tried to reassure his son. "I'm fine. Just a little tired. You've been out of it for nearly two days." He explained, leaving the implication that he'd barely rested while his son had been recovering open in the air between them. Harry frowned, no doubt not liking that James had been neglecting his own rest, but he nodded all the same.

Harry's eyes left him and started to wander around the room. James knew Harry was performing a head count of everyone important to him.

He would find all except one.

James closed his eyes. He'd participated in the search nearly every moment of the last two days that hadn't been spent next to Harry. Even when he wasn't out looking actively, he'd been going over leads, contacting Order members, getting ideas from others, and comparing stories. Anything and everything that would help them.

There were few leads, almost all of which were some obscure reference a Death Eater had made to Snape. The fact that the man hadn't known about the abduction previously was unsettling to say the least.

So far, each lead hadn't panned out and each story was very similar to what he'd seen. He hadn't realized until too late…they'd played right into Voldemort's hands. Harry had done exactly what the Dark Lord had been expecting…what he needed to have happen to set his plan in motion.

**--(FLASHBACK)—**

_James moaned into the ground. His whole body trembled, and he felt as though he'd just gotten over a horrible case of pneumonia or something._

_Memories flooded back into James's mind, leaving him even more breathless than he had been a moment more. "Harry…" he moaned, twisting slightly. It didn't do much good, if anything, it made the shivers worse. James no longer cared though, he had to see if his son and friends were all right._

_"No! Not him, you fool!"_

_The yell of an aggravated man startled James. It sounded so close. He could feel the ground shaking as if someone was coming towards him, and James hastily shut his eyes. It would do better to have someone believe him not to be much of a threat, so he would have the element of surprise. He didn't want to admit to himself just then that it wasn't much of an act. If, by a great deal of luck, the person coming towards him were an auror, he would pretend to come around._

_"Are you sure? They said the dark haired one."_

_This voice was different from the first. A little less harsh, and a great deal younger. Actually, he sounded just as shaky as James felt. A hand grasped his shoulder and turned him around, James kept his eyes closed all the while._

_"See, boy? Glasses, looks a lot like Harry Potter…wonder who he could be?"_

_"James Potter." The "boy" returned, audibly gulping. Clearly he'd made a mistake that his partner didn't like._

_"I told you it wasn't him. We don't need Potter…we need Black."_

_Sirius? James had to fight everything in him to keep still. Whoever these people were, they wanted his best friend. Worst of all, James was hardly in a condition to help him. It had been too soon after a Dementor onslaught._

_The steps moved away from him, and James listened carefully. If only he could transform to Prongs, who had much better sense than he did. The two men had stopped talking, which didn't bode well. Taking the chance, he cracked his eye open and looked to where he'd seen Sirius last._

_His heart constricted painfully._

_They'd found Sirius. The taller of the two men, who no doubt had the crueler of the two voices he'd heard before, was pulling Sirius over his shoulder. They were going to take him past the apparation barriers. Rolling himself back to his stomach, James used all of his strength to get into a kneeling position. His body shook violently in protest, and James cursed himself for having such a bad reaction to the Dementors._

_As quickly as a shaking hand would, James drew his wand. The other Death Eater was getting something from his pocket at the same moment. James anticipated a wand, but faltered when he saw a child's top. What could a Death Eater want with…_

_"One…two…three!"_

_The same moment James realized the top had been a portkey – no doubt done by the Dark Lord himself and powerful enough to blast right through whatever wards there were – was simultaneous to the moment that the blasted object worked. With the blink of his eye, the two Death Eaters and Sirius were gone._

_"Oh Merlin…Sirius!"_

**--(FLASHBACK)—**

"Dad!"

The raspy cry broke James from his memories. Harry was sitting up in bed next to him looking more than a little concerned. "Sorry green eyes, I got caught up there for a second."

"Are you sure you're all right? You look tired. Where's Madame Pomfrey, is everyone okay?" Harry rushed out, his voice going even more hoarse.

Taking control of the situation, as his son was starting to look rather upset, James pressed a hand against Harry's still moving mouth. "I thought I said no talking." He scolded. "I'm fine, don't worry about me. Madame Pomfrey is in back healing Arthur Weasley, I'm afraid he got on the receiving end of a few nasty curses. If your friend Ron hadn't shown up when he did, he would have been far worse off."

The curious look on Harry's face prompted James to continue. Despite the circumstances, or how worried James was, he managed to crack a small smile. "I don't know what kind of books Ron reads, but somewhere along the line he picked up some interesting curses. He had that Death Eater on the ground screaming about non-existent bees in seconds."

Harry smiled, but wasn't put off for long. He waved his hand around the room, gesturing to everyone.

James sighed, "Everyone's all right, for the most part. If it wasn't life threatening, then Poppy didn't slow down to fix it. She's all on her own with this, because Fudge refuses to send a mediwitch with the three aurors he managed to spare." He explained, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice. "He may have been willing to say Voldemort is back, but he isn't willing to tell the wizarding world that he's in business again. Apparently, a mediwitch at Hogwarts would give out the impression that things are getting out of control again."

Harry nodded, letting his eyes dart to each bed. Slowly, he turned back to his father with a decisive look on his face. Abandoning all speaking restraints, Harry croaked, "Where's Sirius. I can't find him."

His face paled, James was sure of it. How did one break to their son that the godfather he adored was in the hands of the enemy? Rushing on, James spoke hurriedly. "Hermione's all right for the most part, she got released yesterday. Charlie Weasley's a little worse for the wear, but he'll be okay, same for Bill. Remus is perfectly fine, so don't worry about that. And Dumbledore's his normal twinkle eyed self…"

"I didn't ask about them." Harry reminded, staring intently at his father. "Where's Padfoot?"

James hadn't really thought that his inventory of everyone else would sway Harry. He'd just put it off for himself, because voicing it to Harry would make things real. His jaw clenched and he let out a harsh breath. "Harry…" he started, knowing he was about to break his own son's heart. "Harry. Two Death Eaters were instructed to return right after the Dementor's did their job. No doubt Voldemort planned this whole thing, knowing you or Dumbledore could have produced a patronus strong enough to stop them. The apparated in with a portkey."

"Dad…" Harry trailed off, knowing where his father was going, but not wanting it to be true.

"I'd passed out before you ever cast the spell. I think I was the first to wake up though, and I saw them. I tried to curse them in time, I wasn't moving very fast, I thought they were going to apparate out, so they would have a ways to go and I'd get the chance to stop them." James explained, justifying his actions to them both. "I didn't realize it was a portkey until they were gone."

"Where is Sirius?" Harry asked slowly, true fear lacing his already shaky voice. James hated himself all the more.

Swallowing and looking away from his son, James whispered quietly, "I don't know. They took him with them. I'm sorry Harry."

He turned back to his horrified child, "They've got Sirius, Harry."

* * *

_Don't hurt me, please? Summer's officially here, so I'll have more time to write now. Bear with me guys, and please review!_

**_Stars Enchantress_**

**Coming Soon: Searching for Sirius **


	37. Searching for Sirius

**The Return of the Father: **_Searching for Sirius _

_

* * *

Thank you to all of the reviewers. I know I left a mean cliffhanger for you all, and I'm afraid things aren't going to get better any time soon. I am sincerely sorry for making you all wait so long. My computer, in short, is fading fast, and I have been trying to write around that. Also, to all that have finished the **HALF BLOOD PRINCE**, you are all more than welcome to sound off or share theories over at my livejournal._

_------------------------------Hospital Wing_

"I can't believe them!" Hermione angrily exclaimed. In her hands she half held, half strangled the morning edition of the Daily Prophet. She sat in a chair situated between Harry and Ron's beds, as both boys were still not allowed out of them for periods longer than the three minutes required to _slowly_ walk to the bathroom, take care of business and _slowly_ walk back.

Ron carefully munched on his eggs, less than willing to step in and calm Hermione. While he hadn't sustained any major injuries like his father, or major curses like Harry, he had exhausted himself in his efforts of protecting his father, along with collecting a rather colorful array of bruises after he'd been thrown back rather violently into a hard, unyielding tree. Madam Pomfrey, who had made her reappearance three hours after Harry had been told about his godfather, was keeping him there for observation for one more night.

Harry's sentence was still unknown, though is throat was healed enough for him to speak – which relieved him to no end after having spent hours making wild hand gestures and significant looks.

If Hermione was aware that both boys were keeping uncharacteristically quiet in the face of her outburst, she didn't let on. "How dare he? After all this time of discrediting Harry and Dumbledore, making everyone think they were crazy, he goes and makes the least threatening announcement he can. Before he practically had people thinking that Voldemort was back, but had no greater ambitions than opening a flower shop! And now this?" She said, slapping the paper with the back of her hand and breathing heavily after her near shouts. It would be a wonder if Madam Pomfrey didn't rush out to tell her to be quiet.

"Read anything interesting in the paper today, Hermione?" Ron inquired mildly after she'd taken several deep – and much needed – breaths. Harry snorted into his hash browns, but quickly turned his slip into a coughing fit.

Judging the expression on Hermione's face, she would have smacked Ron had he not been in a hospital bed. Ron, knowing this, kept an infuriatingly innocent smile on his face.

Heading an argument off at the pass, Harry hastily sent Ron a warning glare before interrupting Hermione before she could get even one scolding syllable out of her mouth. "What's in the Prophet that's got you so upset, Hermione?"

Hermione seemingly decided to answer Harry in favor of dealing with Ron, though her voice was less than calm, cool or collected. "Our esteemed Minister," She sneered in a un-Hermione-like fashion, "Recently held a press conference to tell the wizarding world at large that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named – which is a direct quote – has started a series of large scale attacks. We are apparently…" She said, tone condescending as she glanced back down at the article, "Are on high alert, for we are knee deep in a second coming of the war."

"Now he admits it!" Ron groaned. "Just in time right? It would have been real nice for him to tell everyone this _before_ we got attacked with enough Death Eaters and Dementors to make him pee in his bowler hat!" he raged, making some rather rude gestures that made Harry's communications from earlier seem like docile waves.

Harry, though not quite as vocal as Ron, nodded in agreement all the same. "It would have been good if he could have sent out some better reinforcements."

"That would have given out the impression that things were really bad, which he didn't want. Now that he's made this announcement though, it hardly matters." Hermione said, lifting the paper a little.

Harry couldn't help but make a face at that, thinking about how if they'd had backup Aurors on the scene right away, Sirius's kidnap could have been stopped. Pushing that aside, for he knew Hermione would want to talk about it, which he just wasn't ready for yet, Harry hastily changed the subject, "Does he say anything more?"

Hermione sighed, lifting the paper again to read aloud. " 'On behalf of the Ministry, I would like to give our most sincere apologies to Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter, who never gave up in their pursuit for the truth. We hope they will forgive our inability to believe Voldemort's return on their word alone, and will continue to help the wizarding world at large and share their knowledge of what's to come.' "

"Sounds like they're afraid that Dumbledore's going to keep them out of all the important You-Know-Who decisions." Ron said, reading between the lines.

"Can't you just say Voldemort? You've been doing better since the end of the last year." Harry asked Ron, exasperated. Before waiting for the customary shrug that would accompany such a request, Harry said, "Why would it matter to them? If anything, being so incompetent, you'd think they would just gladly hand of the reigns to him."

Ron shook his head, "The Ministry is too into glory and being right."

"Listen to what it says here." Hermione said, reading from the bottom of the article. " 'Since the announcement of You-Know-Who's return to full power, the Daily Prophet offices have been swarmed with owls. People all over Britain are writing in their complaints to the Ministry, and the Prophet itself. This reporter would like to apologize for the false information printed throughout the last few weeks, and promises to go to a more _competent_ source in any future war-related stories.' "

Harry grinned, liking the sound of that. "Guess the Prophet isn't too pleased either."

"That makes sense, since their reputation has been harmed by this also." Hermione reasoned. Her voice turned thoughtful as she mused further, "I wonder if Dumbledore has been getting any owls? I've read in Hogwarts, A History, that in the case of mass owlings, all mail is directed to a special room in the top of the Headmaster's Tower." She said, sounding remarkably like Professor Binns did when he discussed the closest thing that he had to a passion – the Goblin Rebellion.

A snort sounded from Ron's bed, "I'd love to see what some say. I bet you there's even a few mentioning Harry in there!"

"_Wonderful_." Harry glumly enthused.

"A few? There's got to be a lot more than a few mentioning him. It's much more likely that they all mention him!" Hermione said, wincing when Harry threw his head back against the pillows.

The doors banged open as James - looking even more tired than he had the day before - saved Harry from any further torture. "Dad!" Harry cried, sitting up straight. Ron and Hermione ceased talking immediately, almost as eager as Harry was for news. "Did they find Sirius?" He asked, knowing in his heart they hadn't, for in addition to tired, James still had that tight look of worry on his face.

"No, Harry, I'm sorry. We haven't." James said, sitting down on his son's bed heavily. "I just got back from checking out a lead where someone claims to have recently seen Death Eaters, but it didn't turn out to be anything."

Hermione looked worried as James ran a hand down his drawn face, "James, when was the last time you got any sleep?"

The elder Potter waved his hand aside, "I'm all right, Hermione."

"That's not what I asked!" She said, crossing her arms. Behind her, Ron dropped his head into his hands, shaking it back and forth.

Her indignant concern seemed to only make James let out the barest of smiles, and he didn't answer her – which told more than words could have. James turned to his son, who was looking equally as worried. "Don't worry, green eyes, this is hardly the first time I've gone days with no sleep. You put me through far worse when you were first born. I'm fine." James's confidence waned a little, but he pressed forward anyway. "We've, um, got a meeting, to talk about Sirius…it's really important, Harry. I can't really explain here. You're allowed to come though, Albus said, so if you'd like…" he said, letting the invitation trail off.

Harry's face lit up. "Of course I'm coming if it's about Sirius!"

If anything, this declaration of loyalty to the missing Marauder did nothing but make James's face fall a little. Harry couldn't quite figure that out. His father wouldn't have offered if he didn't want Harry to be there, and besides, it was only a meeting.

"Well, get dressed and we'll head up." James said wearily.

---------------------------Dumbledore's Office

Harry was slightly surprised by the turn out in the Headmaster's office. People he'd never seen before in his life looked up with interest the second he and his father came through the door.

Remus was there, and offered Harry a small smile of encouragement. Behind him, his father steered him into a seat next to Remus, then barricaded him in by sitting on his other side. They were all seated at a long table, which Harry'd never seen in the office before.

Further down, the real Mad-Eye Moody sat, and both his magical eye and real eye were fixated solely on the Potter's. Harry knew that this was the first time that Moody was seeing him in person, which was strange because he'd basically spent a year being taught by the famous Auror. He seemed to have recovered nicely from his time spent in a trunk, though he did look a little thinner than what Harry remembered. If anything, the man's paranoia was only going to get worse, a feat which many didn't think possible.

Arthur Weasley was sitting down also, with both Charlie and Bill. All three waved at him, though Arthur looked a little worse for the wear – Harry idly wondered what it took to get Madam Pomfrey to let him out of her clutches for the meeting. Though, he mused, Molly Weasley's presence next to him might have helped. She smiled warmly at him, and he waved a bit back. Beside him, his father did the same, which struck him as a bit odd; as he wasn't sure how friendly they'd gotten after James's accidental apparation to the Burrow.

A few teachers were around the table, including Professors McGonagall and Snape – who did not look like he wanted to be present.

One of the most shocking sights was his old neighbor from Privet Drive, and frequent babysitter, Mrs. Figg. His father whispered in his ear, "Yeah, I know, right? She's a squib, she was sent to muggleland to watch over you. Right good job she did, huh?" He seemed a bit annoyed with the woman, who was smiling a little smirk at Harry's surprised expression. James opened his mouth to say something else, but Remus shushed him.

That was where the people he knew ended. Though, the rather sleepy man looked slightly familiar, though Harry couldn't place why. He was the first to offer actual words for greetings, "Hullo, Jimmy, Harry."

"How are ya, Dung?" James replied with a short smile. The man in question didn't respond, but rather dropped his head into his hands.

Remus leaned over to Harry, "Mundungus." He whispered, "Nice fellow, not much for following the law though."

Scattered about the table were various people who Remus nodded at in turn. "Kingsley Shacklebolt, he's an Auror. Next to him is Nymphadora Tonks – just don't call her anything but Tonks. Sirius's cousin Andromeda is her mother. She's a metamorphagus, which helps explain the green hair. That's Emmeline Vance, new member." Harry nodded, though he wasn't sure what a metamorphagus was, or what Emmeline Vance was a new member _of_.

After that, his father started in. In an equally quiet whisper – which was no longer needed as there were various side conversations going on around them – he said, "Then, there Dedalus Diggle, and judging from the way he's waving at you, you already know that." Which was true, as Harry did remember him from his first encounter with the wizarding world back in the Leaky Cauldron. "Hagrid is suppose to be here, but he's got a, um, mission of his own."

Harry was about to ask what it was, but Remus had taken up commentary again. Something was beginning to tell him that he'd best just sit back and ask his questions later. "That's Hestia Jones. She's rather new."

And then, at the very end of the table was the last person of this gathering, was Dumbledore. He raised his hand slowly, and all conversation ceased. Whatever they were there for, Dumbledore had made it possible. He slowly stood to address them all, "It is good to see you all again, no matter the dire circumstances. As you've all been told, this is the first meeting of the reconvened Order of the Phoenix."

This, Harry knew, was obviously a very serious announcement. For the life of him, though, he couldn't figure out what it was that Dumbledore was talking about. Never before had he heard of the Order of the Phoenix. But again, he didn't think it was time for questions. Unlike before, neither James nor Remus leaned over to tell him anything.

In his own way, Dumbledore did. Whether he knew that Harry would be confused, or he had seen the slight frown on the boy's face, he knew what it was for. As Dumbledore spoke again, Harry found himself amazed at the aged Headmaster. His voice, almost wobbly with age, commanded the attention of the room, even though he didn't raise it at all.

"The Order of the Phoenix was created twenty years ago, our purpose to fight Voldemort, and see the side of the Light victorious." Dumbledore intoned, his words wrapping around them all as some sort of incantation. If Harry's eyes were anywhere but Dumbledore, they would have seen no flinches at the mention of the Dark Lord's name, a truly once and a lifetime occurrence. "We have lost many members since the first coming of the war, brave witches and wizards who sacrificed their lives to seeing to the deaths of Voldemort and his Death Eaters."

Dumbledore paused, seemingly giving a few seconds of silence for those that had fallen. His father's face hardened briefly, thoughts of Lily visible through the grief in his eyes. Harry slipped his hand under the table to give his father's hand a squeeze. James's face didn't acknowledge the comfort, but he moved his hand to lace his fingers with Harry's.

"The battle fought on these grounds only a few days ago marks the resurrection of the fight between the Order and Ministry against Voldemort." Dumbledore said, before sitting back down in his seat. "There were no deaths for our side, and I know not of Voldemort's."

Breaking in quietly, Snape said, "The Dark Lord suffered quite a few losses. Most of the deaths though, were younger Death Eaters, new recruits."

Harry listened to this, his eyes taking in the sight of Moody glaring at the Potion's Master. Again, it was clear that the mark on Snape's forearm would forever brand him evil in the eyes of the Auror - no amount of information to Dumbledore or good deeds for the side of the Light would change that.

"Thank you, Severus." Dumbledore said. Snape inclined his head – just barely – to the Headmaster. "All those who were injured have been taken care of, and according to Poppy, will make a full recovery." He continued, eyes lingering on Mr. Weasley.

The man that Remus had said was an Auror spoke up. "It took quite a bit of pressuring on the head Aurors part to get Fudge to admit anything had happened at all."

Dumbledore sighed heavily. "I have no doubt, Kingsley. Cornelius is proving to the quite the thorn in our side."

"He's a fool is what he is." Moody growled. A few seats down, Tonks shot him a look.

"I agree with Moody." Professor McGonagall said, earning even more respect from the Marauder's section.

James was nodding along with them, adding in, "He had to admit it, or he really would have been a fool. This isn't the last we'll hear from Voldemort, that's for sure."

Shacklebolt glanced back to Dumbledore, "He's in enough trouble for waiting as long as he did." This news sent a wave of satisfaction over Harry. He hoped the public got angry enough to truly kick him out of office. If he kept making blunders with Voldemort, he would be.

"Fudge'll cover his ass – always does." Mundungus said, waving his hand.

"Mr. Fletcher!" McGonagall warned. "There is a child present."

This comment made Harry frown. He was a teenage boy who roomed with other teenage boys, what did she think went on in the dorms? On top of that, his best friend wasn't exactly shy with word choice. At fourteen, he certainly was used to the word "ass" – or anything else Mundungus Fletcher wanted to spew out for that matter.

"Yes, I do see that." Moody said slowly, eyes – again, both of them – fixed upon Harry. Only sheer will kept Harry from squirming under the intensity of the stare Moody had fixed on him. Finally, the magical eye swiveled to Dumbledore, "Bending the 'no minor's' rule, Albus?"

Dumbledore glanced between Moody and Harry before settling his gaze on the younger of the two. "Under the circumstances, I thought it best."

"And I insisted." James put in, shooting Moody a look that clearly dared the gnarled Auror to challenge his parental rights over Harry.

Moody wasn't finished, though he didn't say a word to contest Harry being at the meeting. He, clearly, had more important things on his mind. "You were at the battle, weren't you boy?"

"Yes, sir." Harry said, speaking for the first time. He wondered where his former professor – well, former almost professor – was going to go with the particular line of questioning he'd started.

Several pairs of eyes shot to Harry, making him all the more determined to keep his eyes on Moody and Moody alone. Underneath the table, his father held his hand just that much tighter.

"Fight anyone, did you?" Moody asked, peering intently at the flushed boy. Harry was no longer sure what was really going on in this conversation, but again, his father gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, almost letting him know that it was all right to answer the question.

And so he did, nodding hesitantly. "Yes, sir." He said quietly. "I did."

He'd been expecting another question, something else about the battle maybe, spells he'd used, who he'd fought, but Moody asked no more. Silently, he gave an almost imperceptible nod in Harry's direction.

For some strange reason, he felt as though he'd passed a test that he didn't even know was being given.

Silence reigned over the table for mere seconds – time people took to stare at either Harry, or look questioningly at Alastor Moody – before the woman that Remus had pointed out as Emmeline Vance spoke. "Was Voldemort there?" She asked, unflinchingly.

This question was thrown out for the table's general answering, though she gave Harry's scar a peculiar look, and he knew instantly that she knew of it's reaction to being near Voldemort. Harry wasn't sure if he liked that this whole Order of people knew this, even if Rita Skeeter had written about it.

"Voldemort was not present." Dumbledore answered. "Originally, I thought his lack of presence indicated that this was not an attack so much as a warning of sorts. He has regained much of his former power – if not all of it. He is, and was, telling us that there will be no more peace."

Remus turned his eyes to Dumbledore; "You don't think that was his intent anymore?"

"With the kidnapping of Sirius, no, I do not." Dumbledore said, shaking his head sadly. "Though it may have been an underlying aim to send such a message, I think the actual purpose was to take Sirius."

Harry glanced briefly as his father, unable to keep his mouth shut any longer. Before Shacklebolt could get his first word out, Harry barreled ahead, "But why not Dad?"

James turned to Harry, almost surprised. The rest of the table turned confused faces to the teen, but he refused to be daunted by that. Dumbledore, however, had a strange twinkle in his eyes that had not been there moments before.

"Pardon, Harry?"

Slowly, Harry kept looking between his father and Dumbledore. "Well, why did he want Sirius? Dad said that they found him first, so why not him? Voldemort is bound to be…um, _upset_…that he's back, so why pass over him in favor of Sirius?" Harry finished quietly, the uncomfortable subject kept him from going much louder, but his curiosity would not leave him alone.

James's eyes had moved back to Dumbledore, the look on his face demanded an answer. It seemed that this too had been bugging him. Behind Harry, Remus whispered quietly to himself, "I'd wondered also."

"I know not for certain why James was passed up in favor of taking Sirius. Losing either of them would hurt Harry greatly, and would be a blow to our side." Dumbledore mused aloud, oblivious to the tight face that Harry had at these words. It was certainly true, he knew, for it would kill him to lose his godfather or father.

Tonks frowned, "Maybe Sirius knows something that Voldemort needs? Something about the Black family could be important." She said, throwing her theory onto the table to be examined. With her mother being Sirius's cousin, and a former Black, she was more aware than most to the dark Black family, even if her mother had kept her separate from it.

"He's got a Black." Mad-Eye Moody snapped.

Harry must have looked confused, for Remus answered aloud for everyone. "Bellatrix Lestrange – one of the Death Eaters who tortured your friend Neville's parents – is Sirius's cousin, she was Bellatrix Black before she married Rodolphus Lestrange." He explained, before looking back at Moody, "But she's in Azkaban, she has been for almost as long as Sirius."

"Besides," James added, "Voldemort could ask Lucius Malfoy's wife, Narcissa. She's Bellatrix's sister."

The grave voice of Dumbledore broke into their conversation, changing it's topic, "I truly do not believe that the Death Eaters in Azkaban will remain there much longer. Fudge refuses to take the Dementors out of control of the fortress, and it is only a matter of time before Voldemort breaks into it to reclaim some of his strongest followers."

Snape's eyes darted to Dumbledore, "He has been planning as much. I do not yet know a date. Though, from what I've gathered, it will be soon."

"It is inevitable." Dumbledore finished.

Bill leaned forward in his seat, bringing focus back to the problem at hand, "That still doesn't answer the question of why Sirius."

"No it does not. We know nothing of Voldemort's reasons for what he needs Sirius for. It may very well be though, that it's something that James could have been just as good for." Dumbledore said. "The sole reason that it was Sirius he wanted and not James could be that James has returned from the dead."

The other occupants of the table, very much used to Dumbledore's vague way of speaking, were brought up short by this. James himself quirked an eyebrow at Dumbledore's statement, while Mundungus and Diggle looked around the table to see if anyone else had ended up at Dumbledore's conclusion. Most people, Harry included, frowned, not knowing quite what Dumbledore meant.

"Care to elaborate, Professor?" Charlie Weasley quipped from the redheaded section, bringing wan smiles to the faces of a few who were grateful for the break in the dark mood of the conversation.

James narrowed his eyes at Dumbledore, "You think he's afraid I'm invincible or something?" he asked slowly, dearly hoping that this was not the case. It certainly wasn't true.

"Oh no, my dear boy." Dumbledore said, twinkle back in his eye – Harry could have sworn that he loved confusing people. "Tom has been desperately trying to achieve immortality for decades, so I think he's become somewhat of an expert on the subjects of invincibility and immortality." He said with something akin to a smile on his face. "No, no, nothing along those lines."

With a restless shift in his seat, Remus said, "Then what?"

"We know nothing of why James has returned. I've given the matter much thought, since he was found, and I've continued to create theories and then discredit them as impossible or improbable each time." Dumbledore explained. James looked particularly interested at the beginning, but by the end he'd leaned back in his seat when it became clear that Dumbledore knew not of why he had returned. Harry was beginning to think that they might never find out.

McGonagall nodded along to Dumbledore's reasoning. "You think Voldemort has done the same." She said. A nod from Dumbledore accompanied her own and acted as confirmation.

"I know that the Dark Lord has been working tirelessly – almost obsessively – to discover what happened to bring about…" Snape trailed off, staring at James in a less than pleasant manner. "Such an event." He finished, glaring.

Dumbledore looked as though he'd been expecting that. "To Voldemort, James is now a dangerous enigma. I do not believe he will proceed much further with James until he has found out the secret of the return."

Remus frowned, "So you think it wasn't so much of Sirius specifically having something that Voldemort needs, rather that Sirius was the safer option of the two?"

"I think that is a distinct possibility." Dumbledore concluded.

Everyone around the table seemed to be ready to thrown in their own theories, but Harry was no longer interested. There were more important things going on than the how and why of his father's return, that could be dealt with later. "This is all well and good," He broke in, "But how are we going to get Sirius back?"

"Patience, Potter." Moody said. Harry didn't turn to look at him, nor did he really care. How could he advise patience when Sirius could be out there hurt somehow? Whether it was good advice or not, Harry knew he wouldn't be able to follow it until Sirius was home safe.

"Easy for you to say." James mumbled under his breath. He felt exactly as Harry did, and was not willing to wait for careful deliberation about the best rescue technique. He continued to ignore the little voice in his head that called it "Gryffindor recklessness" – a voice which was sounding rather nastily like Snape, really the last thing he needed.

Dumbledore watched Harry and James carefully. "James, Remus, did your leads turn up anything more?"

James sighed heavily, telling the table the results before he even opened his mouth. "No, we went to one of the places where Death Eaters were supposedly sighted, but if they were there, then they're long gone now. On half of the checks, I doubt they were ever really there in the first place. People are scaring themselves into sightings."

Taking up from James, Remus continued. "We've got a few more to check out, but we had to stop for the meeting. It'll probably take us all night to follow up on the rest."

Speaking for the first time, Molly Weasley's mothering side came out in all its glory. With her finger wagging warningly, she said fiercely, "You'll not work yourselves to exhaustion. Sirius would…"

"Do the same." James said, cutting her off. Molly shut her mouth abruptly, sensing the dangerous grounds she had come close to treading upon. Exhaustion tended to cut a person's patience short, and with someone a close as a brother missing on top of it, James has very little of that patience left.

Dumbledore kept the silence that followed their exchange from becoming noticeable. "Severus, see if you can't find out something about the Dark Lord's plans for Sirius. Perhaps Lucius knows something."

"Lucius has been rather tight lipped as of late." Snape replied with a sneer, as though this perturbed him to no end, though, knowing Snape's own rather limited patience, it probably did. Harry knew that it was probably killing the man to be having to go through all this trouble for Sirius Black, a man he hated with unconcealed heat.

It seemed that Dumbledore already could guess that, leaving Harry to wonder how little he had left to find out. "Continue to try and figure out the date for when Voldemort attempts to break into Azkaban. I'm afraid we've run out of time for convincing Fudge to up the security and take the Dementors out of power. Voldemort will anticipate this and use it to his advantage. I truly do believe that the break in will be sooner rather than later."

Shacklebolt directed to Dumbledore, "I will continue to try and influence Fudge."

"Fat lot of good that'll do." Arthur surprising muttered. His sons smiled and Molly frowned. Percy Weasley had become further and further isolated from his family, and before attack, he had left Hogwarts entirely. Dislike for Fudge – and in the case of the twins and Ron, Percy himself – was running rampant through the Weasley clan.

Harry couldn't help but feel bad for Mrs. Weasley, who wanted nothing more than her family together and safe. He knew it had to be hard for her to know that Percy would rather believe the lies of the Ministry than his own family.

All through Fudge's attempts to discredit Harry and Dumbledore, Percy had believed him and wouldn't hear a word against the Ministry. Even now, knowing he was wrong to doubt them, Percy hadn't really apologized. He'd gone so far as to call the Minister into Hogwarts over James's return, against his parents and Dumbledore's wishes.

And while the twins saw this as no great loss, the Weasley matriarch – a mother above all else – did.

"Everyone needs to keep an ear out for any information." Dumbledore advised gravely. "Mundungus, I know you have many _friends_ who may have heard things. You also, Dedalus."

The wizards in question nodded, and in the case of Diggle, he followed suit quite frantically.

"Is there anything else that people feel need to be addressed?" Dumbledore asked the table at large.

The table shook their heads, and no one spoke up. Dumbledore stood then, and bowed to them all. "Thank you all for coming. Please, remember, be careful." He said in parting.

At Dumbledore's cue, they all stood also. Various wizards going to the fireplace to floo out, and other's going through the door.

Harry watched as Bill and Charlie helped their father out the door, with Molly supervising worriedly. Judging by the reluctant expression on Arthur's face, it was more than likely it was back to the Hospital Wing for him.

The Aurors used the floo to leave, with Mundungus and Diggle at their heals. The two Professors in question hurried out of the room, though most likely for vastly different reasons. Hestia Jones followed them, and Emmeline Vance stayed behind to talk to Dumbledore, whose eyes twinkled as he watched an unsuspecting Harry.

Harry felt his father pull his hand away before settling it on his elbow to steer him out. He and Remus stayed on his either side as they propelled their charge out the door, not saying a word.

By their route, it was clear Harry was going back to the Hospital Wing. "Dad, can't I go to the Tower? Hermione will be there." He said, hoping to be allowed to return to a less pestering place. Hermione would no doubt smother him, but he could handle her far better than he could Pomfrey. At least Hermione would let him walk to the loo at whatever speed he'd like.

"Madam Pomfrey would rather you stay in the Hospital Wing." James said reluctantly. Considering how little both Potters liked the infirmary, James' condemning words were practically a betrayal.

Or at least, Harry scowled as though they were.

"Besides, Harry, we would rather we knew you were safely in her care while we're out." Remus explained in a voice that undoubtedly hoped to be placating. The words were very much true, at least. He and James had enough to worry about without adding Harry's safety to the list, more so than it normally was, at any rate.

If there was one thing Remus could admire about Poppy Pomfrey, it was her ability to protect her patients. They could have left Harry with a mother bear and gotten him the same protection.

James jumped onto the line that Remus has started. "Yes! And maybe, when Ron is out too tomorrow night, if Bill or Charlie don't have a mission that is, I could smuggle you out."

"Or," Harry said slowly, "You could just let me go with you."

This caused both men to stop in the middle of the hallway momentarily in shock. "Absolutely not." James refused, almost instantly after he'd taken a second to recover.

"That's much too dangerous, Harry." Remus said sternly.

"But if I was with you, I could help!" Harry cried, eager to join in the search for Sirius. When his father seemed ready to interrupt, he continued hurriedly, "And you'd be able to keep an eye on me!"

Though the argument seemed perfectly rational to Harry, it was clear by the way he was being pushed even faster towards the Hospital Wing that his father did not feel the same. "No, Harry. You are staying in the castle; in the Hospital Wing unless Voldemort himself gives you reason to leave it. Do you understand me?"

"Dad!" Harry yelled indignantly.

"_No, Harry!_" James said again, more forcefully.

Harry shook his head as the doors to his doom came into view. "I have to help find Sirius! Voldemort could be hurting him!"

At his desperate reasoning, James was forced to stop again with a heavy sigh. He turned his son to face him, placing his hands on the dejected Gryffindor's shoulders, "Listen to me, Harry. Sirius would not want you putting yourself in danger for him. You know that."

"I have to try and find him." Harry insisted again, though his voice had lost its fight. The worry and guilt felt like a lead ball in his stomach, weighing him down. He wanted his godfather back. Why was it he couldn't seem to have both of his father and godfather for very long before Voldemort snatched one away?

One of his father's hands left his shoulder and went to stroke the side of his face, and action he did mostly in the most stressful of conversations. "I know, green eyes, I really do." James said gently. "I need you to stay here, all right. Do you understand why?"

As much as Harry would have liked to say no and argue the point a bit further, he knew he couldn't. His father wanted him to stay safe, just as he wanted his father to stay safe. "Yes." He conceded miserably.

"Good." James said, slightly more cheerfully as he gave a quick squeeze to the shoulder he'd held on to.

Remus, who had remained quiet for the exchange between father and son up until then, ruffled Harry's hair a bit. "We'll be careful, we promise."

"Yes, Marauder's honor." James said, putting his hand over his heart and bowing extremely seriously. Harry couldn't help but quirk a smile at his father's teenage antics, leading James to smile happily in response. He absolutely detested having to be strict with Harry, but unfortunately, it did come with the job of parent. When Harry had been a baby, James had always envisioned Lily being the disciplinarian, a dream with would sadly never come true – sadly, because he both missed Lily, and _really_ didn't want to ever have to be the one to ground Harry.

That out of the way, James finally managed to force Harry into the Hospital Wing at long last. It was getting late, and Hermione had long since left. Arthur Weasley was happily snoozing in his bed. The only other person remaining behind was Ron, who was enduring his final night in Pomfrey's clutches. He too was asleep, leaving the infirmary to be quiet and dark.

The ruler of the wing was presumably either in her office or staying to the sidelines to let James settle Harry. Whichever it was, Harry was grateful.

Harry trudged sullenly to his bed, not at all pleased to be trapped there yet again. Madam Pomfrey was nice enough, but Harry'd seen the sterile wing far too often to be content with staying there.

"To bed with you, boy!" James said, pulling back the covers for Harry as if he couldn't do it himself. Harry knew they were eager to be off, but were staying behind to see that he was properly tucked in. Remus even fetched a glass of water to put on his bedside table.

Once Harry was settled down in the covers, James leaned down to place a kiss on his forehead. Harry almost felt guilty to be enjoying the attention so much. He was far too old to be happy about his father tucking him in as though he were a child still, especially at a time like this. "Night Dad, Remus." He said, pushing his blushing but smiling face under the covers.

"Sweet dreams, Harry." James said quietly, before walking to the doors.

Harry would have thought that Remus followed him, but when he looked to his other side, he was still standing there. With a smile, Remus leaned down to Harry, and for one moment, he thought Remus was going to give him a kiss goodnight too – which might have proved to be all the more embarrassing, it was his former Professor after all. Instead though, Remus bypassed his forehead in favor of his ear. "I'll look out for your father, Harry, don't worry." He whispered so as not to alert James, who at the other end of the wing thought that Remus was indeed giving Harry a goodnight kiss.

Pleased, Harry nodded. Remus pulled back and started to walk away before Harry shot out his hand to grab the werewolf's wrist. "You look out for yourself as well." Harry whispered back. Remus looked strangely pleased with this and gave Harry a smile.

With both men out of the wing, the silence almost felt oppressive. His eyelids were steadily falling downwards, and Harry only then realized that he was getting tired. His fear for Sirius was tapping him of energy, though he'd originally thought it to be just emotional. Harry wanted him back, safe and in one piece. But the longer Voldemort kept him, the less likely it seemed that he would return that way.

A thought that scared him all the more.

Stubbornly, Harry tried to keep his protesting eyes open. He wanted to be awake for any news that came. His body had other ideas though, and Harry soon lost the fight he'd been having with consciousness.

_----------------------------Dream_

_Harry found himself in a long corridor that he'd never seen before in his life. Darkness surrounded him, making things hard to see. He walked forward, unsure why he would do this without knowing what was to come. _

_There was something he needed to see…_

_The end of the hallway had an open door, and Harry strode through it, knowing he was going the right way. This was where he needed to go, this was the way. The room it opened to was an equally dark room with no corners - a perfectly circular room. Doors surrounded the walls all around, though only one of those many doors were open_

_Without knowing why, he chose the open door straight across the room. He rushed ahead, wanting more and more to see where he needed to be. There were voices ahead of them, though Harry couldn't make out what they were saying. Was it important? _

_He walked more determinedly, eager to make out their hushed sounding and indecipherable words. _

_Another door opened for him, and he went through it – never questioning why it opened or why it was that door to do so and not any of the others. He felt a though something was pulling him in the right direction, a little voice in his mind telling him the way through something other than words._

_The room he'd entered was unlike one he'd ever seen before. Where was he, why was he there? Confusion that came so often with dreams like these ran through Harry. He had no answer, other than the knowledge of what happened in the dreams that had come before like these. _

_It was a cathedral-like room, filled with shelves and shelves of glass spheres. He raced forward, and when he passed number ninety-seven, he turned and hurried down the aisle. _

_He was there, he knew it. _

_Ahead of him were two men. He could see them clearly, though his mind was sluggish to realize who they were. One man lay fallen on the floor, and Harry watched him carefully. He said nothing, though he was breathing harshly. The other man loomed over him, taking no notice of the crouched man's pain. "Take it down for me…take it now." The standing man hissed. The voice was familiar. He could not see their faces yet._

_He couldn't place the first voice right away, but the voice of the man below him instantly rang though the strange feeling in his mind. "Never." _

"_Sirius!" Harry called, so very happy to see his godfather. _

_Neither of the men heard him. They never did in dreams like this. The images in front of him were slowly being processed in his mind, making his thoughts sluggish and not completely his own. _

_Sirius was hurt. _

_Sirius was in this strange place. _

_There was a man hurting him. _

"_Lift it down, do it…" Came another hiss. This time it filtered through. _

_Voldemort. _

_Voldemort had his godfather. _

_Voldemort was hurting him. _

"_Leave him alone!" Harry cried, rushing forward. They did not hear him again, they could not see him. _

_Whatever it was that Voldemort wanted of Sirius, his godfather didn't seem willing to do. The Dark Lord raised his wand, pointing it on the already weakened man in front of him, "Crucio!" _

_Sirius's body slammed back against the ground, arching in pain. He was writhing on the ground, using whatever control he had left to keep from screaming out in agony. Harry knew what he was going through. "NO, leave Sirius be. Stop!" he said, unable to do anything more. _

"_Sirius…" Harry whispered, his heart breaking. _

_Voldemort ended the curse. "Take it for me, you foolish boy! I cannot touch it…you can…you can touch it…take it down…" _

_Sirius lie still on the ground, moaning in pain. Voldemort took no notice to it, though the noises Sirius was making tore through Harry as if they were daggers. _

"_I must have it…you know what it is, don't you? You know what that old man's been hiding away in the Department of Mysteries…you know…you know I cannot touch it…get it for me…" Voldemort instructed again. He sounded angry, no longer willing to keep asking. _

_Harry was torn between wanting to keep Voldemort away from whatever he wanted so badly, and begging his godfather to just get the thing so the dark man would stop hurting him._

"_You'll have to kill me first." Sirius snarled, raising his head in defiance against his enemy. _

"_Crucio." The snake said again, letting the curse go until screams echoed through the darkness………_

_**

* * *

PLEASE READ: I want everyone to be clear on what Harry's dream was. I am aware that his visions have not been factoring in largely with this story, though it has been established in previous chapters that he does in fact have them. I hate having to give things away in author's notes, but to make sure I don't receive confused reviews, or people telling me I've done things wrong, I have to explain. This is an actual vision. This is not like OotP where it was a false vision fed to Harry (please be aware though, that a great deal of this and the next few chapters borrow heavily from Rowling's fifth book, so much credit goes to her). Again, this is a true vision. The reason that it does not follow the characteristics of a normal vision is that Voldemort is forcing Harry to see it. Voldemort has been aware that Harry can see through his eyes, and he has learned to choose times in which Harry sees things. This is a liberty on my part, that will be explained to the characters in later chapters, but I am letting you all in on it to explain things better. Instead of their link just activating and allowing Harry to see through Voldemort's eyes, Voldemort has forced through that to make the link show Harry an event that he wishes to be seen. This is a true vision, and Harry is being forced to see it for a reason, which I am sure you all are aware of.**_

_**All readers of Harry Potter and the New Start**, please note that the story is giving me problems, and it will take a while longer to get it started, I am sorry for this, as I hoped to get the sequel out much sooner. It is actually in danger of being scrapped altogether. You can check my profile for more information. _

_I hope you all understood what I was trying to say, and I am sorry for the long – but somewhat necessary – explanation was about. Spoilers will be posted on the livejournal soon. _

_**-Stars Enchantress**_

**NEXT IN RETURN OF THE FATHER:**_ An Old Man's Mistake_


	38. An Old Man's Mistake

**The Return of the Father: **_An Old Man's Mistake_

* * *

_Thank you so much for the reviews to the last chapter, they are – as always – greatly appreciated. I am extremely sorry for the wait, writer's block, computer problems, work and a thousand family functions all managed to get in the way._

_**PLEASE NOTE:** I probably should have said this last chapter…but better late than never. This story is as it was before, AU. Aspects of Book 5 may feature in this story, or some of it's successors if there are ever any. Aspects of Book 6 will **not** feature in this story, though may end up weaseling into future stories. For now though, don't worry about Snape, Romilda Vane, Horcruxes or anyone's initials (And, before anyone blasts me for including aspects of HBP right there, Snape is a character, Romilda isn't important and is introduced like, three chapters into it, Horcruxes are a chapter title, which anyone could read in the table of contents before they started the book and initials are a pretty worthless – besides, it's been more than a month and almost no one is using spoiler warnings anymore). **HALF BLOOD PRINCE IS NOT APART OF THIS STORY!**_

_------------------------------ _

"_I must have it…you know what it is, don't you? You know what that old man's been hiding away in the Department of Mysteries…you know…you know I cannot touch it…get it for me…" Voldemort instructed again. He sounded angry, no longer willing to keep asking. _

_Harry was torn between wanting to keep Voldemort away from whatever he wanted so badly, and begging his godfather to just get the thing so the dark man would stop hurting him._

"_You'll have to kill me first." Sirius snarled, raising his head in defiance against his enemy. _

"_Crucio." The snake said again, letting the curse go until screams echoed through the darkness………_

_-----------------------------Hospital Wing_

Harry shot straight up in bed, breathing hard. His hand clapped over his scar as if pressure would make the pain go away. It never did, but the reaction still came to him every time he woke up from a vision.

His mind swam with the implications of his dream. How had Voldemort entered the ministry? Surely there were wards against that…against him. The ministry's stupidity, though, was still ripe and still there. It was possible, it was more than possible.

He threw the covers aside, adrenalin rushing through him, he couldn't sit there and do nothing. Sirius was at stake. If he could find his father, it would be all right.

Tripping from his bed, Harry rushed out of the infirmary, leaving Ron and a tangled mess of blankets behind. He ran through the halls, ignoring the whispering portraits, as they didn't seem to comprehend that he could run around at any hour in the castle, since it wasn't a school year. He resisted the urge to shout it at them, but he hadn't quite cleared a safe distance from Madame Pomfrey's hearing range.

His father probably wasn't in the Gryffindor Tower, so Harry ran right past it. There was no reason to be there with Harry in the Hospital Wing, James would have bunked with Remus, since Sirius wasn't there. The Fat Lady called after him, sounding mildly concerned, but he ignored her too. He was running too fast to catch her singsong words. In fact, he was running too fast to do much of anything besides breathing. His legs were practically burning.

He ran straight to the portrait that Remus's room was guarded by and shouted the password a good five feet away. The portrait swung open, admitting in into the room. "Dad! Remus! I know where Sirius is! You have to get up, we have to…" Harry trailed off.

There were no lights on in the room, no James-shaped lump on the couch, nobody in the bed. The cloaks were gone from the pegs by the door and the fire wasn't lit. Harry felt his heart drop down to his stomach as the implications set in and the memory returned.

His father and Remus weren't there, and wouldn't be back all night. "Dad…" Harry whispered to the empty, cold room. He didn't know how he could actually contact his father in time. Hedwig would take far too long to pinpoint their location, and by then it could be too late.

Harry turned around and left the door wide open. He only had one option left - Dumbledore. He and his father hadn't had much contact with the aged Headmaster after it came out about the breaking of the oath James had made Dumbledore swear. James's anger that his son had grown up in anything but a loving home made it difficult for him to forgive and forget. Harry himself wasn't quite sure what his feelings for Dumbledore were, or if they had even changed at all. When it all came down to it though, Dumbledore was the leader of the light. He would know what to do, he always did.

He reached the gargoyle that guarded the office of the head of school in record time. He wasn't entirely sure if Dumbledore's rooms were in the same tower as his office, but he didn't know where else to go. "Ice Mice!" he tried, coming out slightly frantic sounding. "Um…Blood Pops, Acid Pops, Honeydukes Best Chocolate, Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans…" He tried, getting more and more frustrated at each failed password, "Really, don't you just have an override code for emergencies!" Harry yelled angrily, "My name is Harry Potter and I desperately need to speak with the Headmaster!"

Nothing.

"Lemon Drops! God, Lime Drops, if there's even such a thing. Chocolate Frogs…this is such a waste of time! Pumpkin Pasties! Canary Creams!" With that, the gargoyle jumped aside. Barely pausing to groan at the choice of passwords – and really, at this point in his school career, he should just get the password mailed to him for convenience's sake – Harry rushed to climb the still-revolving stairs.

He didn't bother to knock and instead rushed right in. "Headmaster!" Harry yelled before stopping short in the room.

There, sitting behind his desk in what looked to be a pajama-esque robe, was Albus Dumbledore. "Yes, my boy?" he asked quite calmly when Harry failed to say a word following his bellow.

This jarred him out of his momentary stupor. "Sir, I've just had a vision." He said, coming forward.

Dumbledore stood quickly, again making his age seem obsolete, and walked around his desk. "What of, Harry? Sirius?"

"Yes, Voldemort was torturing him in a strange room, with lots of small round jars in it." Harry said, rushing to explain the horrible scene he had been forced to witness. "Voldemort kept telling him to take something down and Sirius kept refusing. He cast the Cruciatus Curse on Sirius!"

Peering intently at the boy, Dumbledore softly questioned, "And you saw this when you were in the Hospital Wing?"

"Yes!" Harry responded quickly, eager to find out when they could rescue Sirius. "Do you know what room I'm talking about, Headmaster? You have to go down a long hallway, and then through a circular room. It's past that, with lots of shelves. I went down one of them, and I saw them!"

"Them?" Dumbledore asked.

"Sirius and Voldemort." Harry answered, "You should firecall my Dad and Remus, so we can -"

A raised hand cut him off, making Harry shift his feet impatiently. "Harry," Dumbledore asked, "Do any of your other visions happen outside of Voldemort's eyes? I was under the impression you saw through him, as though you were inside his body."

Harry's face fell a little as he considered this, "Well, no. I do usually see through Voldemort's eyes."

"And yet this time you did not?" Dumbledore questioned, voice intent and focused. "You saw Voldemort with Sirius _ahead_ of you?"

Nodding, Harry confirmed, "Yes, sir."

Dumbledore nodded with him, seeming all at once grave and tired. Harry eyed him warily, not liking the look in the old man's normally twinkling eyes. Why weren't they contacting James and Remus? "Professor?"

"Sit down, please, Harry." Dumbledore said wearily, gesturing to the seat in front of his desk.

Harry wasn't quite sure what to do as he hesitantly sat in the chair. "Can't this wait until you call the Order, Professor? Sirius is being tortured so that Voldemort can have something on one of those shelves; he says he can't touch it himself. We have to make sure he doesn't get what he wants, don't we?"

"You're worried for Sirius, aren't you, Harry?" Dumbledore asked quietly. The normally twinkling blue eyes gave away nothing to the frantic teen, no twinkle, no hint of concern or and indication that Dumbledore was in a hurry. It wasn't what Harry wanted to see at all.

Harry gaped, "Of course I am! Didn't you hear, he's being tortured!" he exclaimed.

The Headmaster shook his head, "I do not believe he is, Harry. Or at the very least, not in the way you claim to have seen it."

"Not tortured? Claimed?" Harry repeated faintly. Dumbledore thought he was lying? How could he even think such a thing? Harry wouldn't lie about this, not about Sirius being harmed.

Dumbledore watched Harry with something akin to regret on his face. "Perhaps claimed is the wrong word. I do believe that you yourself think all this to be true."

"But you don't." Harry finished dully. He could see where this was going, and he could scarcely believe it. Dumbledore didn't believe him. His father would have, he was sure.

"No, Harry, I do not. I think you've merely dreamed up a way to rescue Sirius, a location that he is in, because you so desperately want it to be true." Dumbledore explained, sounding so reasonable that Harry longed to hit something. Preferably Voldemort for doing this, or now, Dumbledore himself. The impulse surprised Harry, in some form, but as each word of doubt fell from the Headmaster's lips, the urge became more real.

He fought it down, and tried to keep his voice level, "I desperately want Sirius to be tortured?" He questioned, voice hard and shaking with intensity. If anything, Dumbledore looked more regretful. "I wouldn't ever dream up something like that on my own!"

"Nightmares play on our own worst fears, Harry." Dumbledore said, sounding infuriatingly vague.

Harry shook his head back and forth rapidly, "That's not it though. It couldn't have been a nightmare! My scar hurt afterwards, Professor, it only does that for visions!"

"Our minds have ways of making one believe even the most improbable of things." Dumbledore dismissed.

His mind felt as if it were on overload. "But you were the one who told me to tell you if it ever started hurting! It did when I woke up from the dream - that means a vision. That can't have changed just because I want Sirius to be found. I want Cedric to have been saved, but my scar doesn't hurt every time I dream of him."

"Voldemort is gaining strength, Harry, the threat is more real in your mind." Dumbledore explained, before adding, "And, above all else, love is a powerful force. You love your godfather very much, Cedric was merely a friend, if that."

"That can't be true." Harry denied, feeling the icy grip of panic taking him over as he slowly realized Dumbledore wasn't even going to try and follow up on his lead. They'd checked out vague recollections of muggles who had seen a dark robe in a mysterious place, but Dumbledore wouldn't even look into what a boy who had regular visions of the Dark Lord said, even when he had scar pains to back him up. Harry felt his faith in the Headmaster, a faith that had been so strong when he'd raced up the stairs, crumble into nothing.

Dumbledore leaned forward in his desk, "I'm afraid it is, Harry."

"You aren't even going to look?" Harry asked, his one last hope.

"The forces of the Order are too far stretched as it is, we have no one to spare to go off right now." Dumbledore said sadly. He watched Harry with a concerned sadness in his eyes, but Harry no longer cared.

Dumbledore stood, and Harry felt dismissed. He quietly stood and turned his back defiantly, saying nothing as he headed towards the door. Behind him, Dumbledore quietly said, "Return to the Hospital Wing, Harry, I don't think angering Poppy is the best thing to do as of now. Try and get some more rest, a lead will turn up soon, don't worry."

Harry felt like an eleven year old all over again, as though he knew nothing of the impending war and nothing of what was to come. He had done more in the war than anyone his age, and half of the adults, and yet he was still treated like a new recruit who had no say or value. As if he were nothing.

He walked down the stairs without acknowledging the Headmaster's instructions. In fact, he didn't even follow him. He knew it was a vision, not just some mental image his mind had conjured up to give him hope for Sirius. Dumbledore was just plain wrong, and if he wasn't going to do something about it, then Harry would.

-----------------------------Hospital Wing

"Ron! Ron, wake up." Harry whispered, nudging his friend in the ribs. Ron batted his hand away and turned over with a groan.

"G'way, Mum. Is'till dark." Ron muttered.

Harry shook him more insistently. "Come on, Ron! This is important!" Harry whispered again, sounding more urgent.

Blearily, Ron cracked one eye open. "Harry?" he asked, in a normal speaking voice.

"Shh!" Harry hissed. "We can't wake Pomfrey or your Dad."

This seemed to wake Ron fully as he sat up quickly, eyes taking in the darkness of the room and the fact that his father was still sleeping. "What's going on, Harry?" Ron asked warily.

Harry tugged at Ron's arm, "Get up, I'll explain when we hit the tower." He promised as Ron pulled aside the blankets and stood to his feet, a little unsteady from the sleep still at the corners of his mind.

"All right." Ron agreed, then muttered under his breath, "Better be good…"

Ignoring this, Harry pulled Ron's arm to propel him out the door. Madame Pomfrey absolutely could not see them. However well meaning she might have been, she would wreck everything, and Harry couldn't have that. Not now that Sirius's life was in danger.

The moved quickly and quietly through the castle, with far more grace than Harry had exercised when he'd been traipsing through the castle before. Not for the first time, Harry was happy they'd spent so many nights practicing walking quietly through their not quite innocent four years at Hogwarts.

Ron kept up next to him, not saying a word. Harry could only hope that his friend would believe him as Dumbledore had not. He needed their help.

------------------------------Gryffindor Tower – Boy's Dorm

"What's this about, Harry?" Ron said almost the second after the door had been shut behind them.

Now that they were in the safety of "their" dorm, Harry finally felt as if he could explain. "I had a vision." He started and proceeded to ignore the incredulous look on Ron's face. "I saw Sirius and Voldemort in this strange room, and Voldemort was…torturing him."

"We have to tell Dumbledore!" Ron said, rushing towards the door.

"I already did." Harry said, stopping Ron. "He doesn't believe me."

Ron turned back around slowly, eyes narrowed. "And why doesn't Dumbledore believe you?"

"He thinks I made it up." Harry said bitterly. "Or convinced myself of it, or something equally as _not _true."

Sitting heavily on his bed, Ron groaned. "It's too early for this." He muttered before speaking loudly again, "You _are_ sure, aren't you Harry?"

He was glared at in return, "Of course. My scar hurts. I don't care how desperately I want to find Sirius, I can't make my scar hurt. It had to have been Voldemort."

"Maybe we should wake up Hermione, she could help us figure this out." Ron suggested.

"How do would we actually get up to her dorms to do it?" Harry questioned, slightly distracted. His mind was still moving a mile a minute, creating and discarding plans left and right.

Ron stood up, "You go and get her." He said with a smirk.

"I'm a boy, in case you've forgotten. The staircase wouldn't let me up." Harry reminded, exasperated.

Laughing a little, Ron smirked even more, "Well, Crookshanks can get up, can't he? Why not give another cat a try?"

-----------------------------Girl's Dorm

It had taken him a few minutes to get calm enough to get his form to change, which apparently wouldn't be a factor once he got used to it. Soon the lion was tentatively pawing up the stairs, half expecting for it to realize the deception and slide him back down. Ron did have a valid point - the magic only seemed to include a rule against human males, not animal males. He couldn't help but wonder if the Marauders had ever figured that out.

He reached the door and let out a small sigh of relief that it had let him up all the way. It would certainly be interesting to see the girl's dorms.

Pawing the door, which bared a painful echo to what he'd seen Sirius do at the end of his fourth year, albeit with far more ease, Harry slipped inside the darkened room.

Thankfully, there seemed to be no embarrassing _girl_ things lying around. Harry wasn't sure if he could ever have faced Ginny or Hermione again if he'd seen, say, a bra. It seemed that girls were just far neater than boys. During the year, it was really only the fact that Hermione popped in the boy's dorm occasionally that kept them at least slightly neat.

Harry stalked through the room, not changing back into his human form. He spied a lump in one bed, but noticed an extreme absence of books around it. The other bed, however, had a small tower forming on the bedside table of tomes that weighted more than Hedwig. Without a doubt, it was clear he'd found Hermione.

Jumping up, he settled his two front paws on the bed next to his sleeping friend and started nudging her with his nose. He could, had he wanted to be naughty, have woken her up with a few well-placed licks, but she'd have yelled about it for a good twenty minutes after and they didn't have that kind of time.

"Crookshanks, go hunt if you're hungry." Hermione grumbled, batting him away with her hand. Harry repressed a snort, it appeared that he wasn't the first cat to try such a method of wake up calls. He waited for her to realize the cold nose nudging her wasn't quite a small as a normal house cats.

It didn't take long. Hermione's eyes flew open after a few more nudges and she sat straight up in bed once she spied the rather large lion in front of her. Harry quickly transformed back to his normal self and clapped a hand over her mouth. "It's just me."

He gave her a second to catch her breathing again before pulling the hand away. She took a deep breath. "Were you trying to scare the life out of me, Harry Potter?"

"No, sorry." He apologized quickly. "I need you to come to our room, I had a vision." He whispered, mindful of the still slumbering Ginny only a bed away.

Hermione snapped to awareness instantly at his confession. She threw the covers aside and jumped out of bed. "Change back, so you don't wake the whole tower up on the stairs." She said.

Harry barely spared the second to marvel at how quickly she'd picked that up. "Speak a little quieter would you?" he muttered as he complied to her order.

"Ginny sleeps like the dead." Hermione responded as they started down the stairs.

Like brother, like sister, it seemed, as Ginny didn't even shift when the door closed. They padded quickly to the boy's dorm, which Hermione didn't have to do a thing to get into, he noted with annoyance.

Once inside Harry, who had changed to himself somewhere between the bottoms of the two staircases, debriefed Hermione on the situation.

"And you're sure Harry, absolutely without a doubt sure?" She questioned for the third time.

Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm a thousand percent sure, Hermione."

"I know!" Ron yelled, only to be quickly shushed by Hermione and Harry. "Please, I know my siblings' sleeping habits, we're fine." He retorted, "But if we need confirmation of what Harry's saying, why not check the picture frames?"

Harry was about to go run to do just that, slapping himself upside the head all the way, but Hermione shook her head. "I checked when I left the Hospital Wing. Voldemort must have an untraceable spell, it just lists 'Unknown' for a location and 'Alive' for the rest."

"That place he was in didn't look like some hideout of Voldemort's, so how would he do that?" Harry asked, a little deflated by the dead end Ron's idea had turned out to be.

Sitting down next to Harry, Hermione explained. "He probably cast it directly on Sirius. In fact, that's probably standard practice for when they get prisoners. It would be easier to find him otherwise."

"Makes sense." Ron admitted grudgingly.

Flopping back down on the bed, Harry moaned, "I wish my dad was here."

"We all do." Hermione placated. "But he's not. We need to come up with something of our own if Dumbledore won't help."

Both boys looked at her, surprised. "Sirius means a lot to me too." Hermione sniffed, "If Harry says he's sure, I believe him. We need to do something."

Ron and Harry exchanged a look.

"Oh come on." Hermione cried. "I'm not suggesting we charge off blindly like you two would. We should think through a plan and then go."

Harry nodded, "As long as the thinking through stage is quick."

Shooting the still laying down Harry a look, Hermione stiffly informed him, "That is how people get killed."

"And waiting will get Sirius killed!" Harry shouted, sitting up.

For once in his life, Ron mediated. "We'll think through a plan without going over it a thousand times. That shouldn't take too long, all right?"

Harry and Hermione nodded before Hermione shifted herself to face Harry on the bed. "All right, describe the place Sirius was in to me again."

"It was a cathedral looking room, with a big dome ceiling." Harry relayed again while Hermione listened intently. "There were shelves in it, filling the entire room. And on every single shelf there were these glass spheres."

"Were they just glass balls or could they have been something else?" Ron asked.

Thinking back, Harry tried to picture them as they had been in his vision. "They could have been something else. Yeah, definitely."

Hermione seemed to be thinking hard. "A large room filled with strange spheres of glass that might be holding something…" She wracked her memories of all the things she'd read about.

"The Department of Mysteries." Sounded a voice from the doorway, a suspiciously sleepy voice.

Ron whirled around. "Ginny!" he cried.

There, standing in the doorway still clad in her pajamas, was one very sleepy but quite lucid Ginny Weasley. "I heard you yell about Sirius before, Harry."

"What did you mean, Ginny, the Department of Mysteries?" Hermione asked, her brow creased in concentration.

Sitting cross-legged on the floor, Ginny elaborated. "Percy was telling me things this summer all about the Ministry, things I guess he hoped would entice me to work there."

"I though I was the only one he was going after?" Ron muttered.

"He talked with you a bit more seriously about it. I didn't really get the whole benefits speech that you did." Ginny explained. "But he did tell me all sorts of things about the more interesting parts of the Ministry. The Unicorn Protection Division, things like that. There was another section he told me about called the Department of Mysteries."

Harry nodded, those glass balls certainly could be classed as a mystery. "How can you be sure about this room though?"

"One of the rooms he described was specifically for prophecies. This room is filled with them, and every single one is contained in a little glass sphere." Ginny finished.

The trio digested the news that Ginny had brought to the table. Ron shook his head, "This is the first time in my life I would actually want Percy to be here to tell me all about the Ministry, and he's off somewhere else. How's that for shitty timing?"

"Ron." Hermione said, though she clearly hadn't put her whole heart into it.

Harry slid off the bed to sit next to Ginny on the floor. "Are you sure, Ginny?"

"Very much so." She replied. "What's all this about?"

Ignoring her momentarily, Harry turned an alarming shade of white. "Wait…he said that. Voldemort said something about the old man hiding something away in the Department of Mysteries. I hadn't remembered because right after Voldemort had used the unforgivable on Sirius."

"So it is the Department of Mysteries!" Hermione exclaimed. "Dumbledore must be keeping something there that Voldemort wants for himself."

"And there's got to be some sort of hex or something that keeps Voldemort from touching it, so he needs Sirius to take it down for him." Ron finished with Hermione's line of thinking, which was really all that they had to go by. Ginny looked mildly surprised with what was going on around her, especially with Ron's use of the Dark Lord's name.

Harry jumped up, "We need to go then. To the Ministry."

"How, Harry? You can't just floo into it, it's very well protected. Especially such an important place as the Department of Mysteries." Hermione pointed out, sounding infuriatingly reasonable.

Standing up next to Harry, Ron added, "Well, Voldemort got in."

"The twins could." Ginny offered. "I bet you they could figure something out, or at least help. Besides, Dad's taken them in once or twice, so they might help with finding it."

Hermione looked upwards, where the twins were above sleeping. "Would they tell?"

"No." Ron said firmly, shaking his head. "Not if they knew what was going on."

Ginny scowled at this, as she still had no idea. Harry didn't waste the time to tell her though, not when they would be explaining to Fred and George in only moments. "Are you sure they'll do it?"

"If for no other reason than to make sure Ginny doesn't get cursed to oblivion, yes." Ron said, sending a sidelong glance to his little sister.

"Don't even try to, Ron." Ginny practically growled. "I'm coming."

Holding his hands up to defend himself, Ron shook his head quickly. "Wasn't even thinking of it." Most likely though, he had been and he just knew how to pick his battles.

"Yes, we'll need her help, Ginny's great at defense." Hermione said, giving a tight smile to Ginny.

With renewed determination, Harry got ready for the fight ahead. "Let's go get dressed, then we'll go get the twins. We need to go tonight."

_

* * *

Well, I can't quite believe it. I managed to finish this! I apologize a thousand times over for the delay. This chapter was just not into being written. Also, I'm pleased to say that this story has been going now for a full year!_

_Thank you all for being so very patient. _

_Also, I'm in a great rush and I didn't want to make you all wait, please excuse any errors in the chapter. _

_**Stars Enchantress**_

_COMING SOON (hopefully): The Return of the Father – The Second Battle_


	39. The Second Battle

**The Return of the Father**

Chapter Thirty Nine: The Second Battle

* * *

_I must start this chapter thanking the reviewers of the last chapter a thousand times over for their encouragement and the readers for sticking with this story and me. Your support means more to me than you guys know._

_The full explanation for my absence is on my LJ, so you can read that if you would like to know. I'm so sorry it took so long. _

**PLEASE NOTE: This chapter borrows heavily from the original in Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, BUT everything isn't directly how it was in the book. I didn't need them running around quite as much, and frankly, I just want this chapter to be over. So please, don't review telling me that I've skipped the brains or something like that. I know, I'm sorry it's not a perfect rendition, but I think we can all agree that moving past this chapter might be good if updates are ever to become regular again. **

_------------------------------- Sanctuary_

"We are all sitting down for a long talk later, you three got that?" Fred mumbled sounding some strange mix of angry and jealous.

Harry turned back to look at Fred, who was staring around the room in awe with his brother. Ginny stood beside her brothers, looking as though she'd just been through too much at this point to care. Ron had protested against bringing the three into their own little headquarters, but there hadn't really been a choice. The original plan of brooms would have taken far too long, and would have been too difficult.

Besides, no one was entirely sure how to get to the Ministry from Hogwarts, at least not well enough to get there before the adults woke up or noticed their absence.

"Are you sure this is the best way, Harry?" Hermione asked from his side, ignoring Fred's envious grumble.

With a deep breath, Harry nodded. "We know this will work, and it's quick."

"And if you get caught?"

Harry turned back to the rest of the group. "I'll go first, and then you all wait a moment to see if any guards come barreling out to grab me. If they do, go to Dumbledore." He said logically.

"Dumbledore!" Ron said.

"Harry will already be in the Ministry, Dumbledore won't have much more choice then to check things out, right?" Ginny asked, basically reading Harry's mind.

"Exactly." Harry finished.

George shook his head, "I don't know, mate, this is risky."

"Oh, as if you two haven't done anything risky before." Hermione huffed, sending a disapproving glare at the twins, who didn't even have the good grace to look sheepish.

"We're just saying," Fred added, "That you kiddies don't seem to be taking the harsh punishments that the Ministry gives trespassers into consideration."

Harry was getting impatient; he turned his back from the group. Without hesitation, he opened the door to the Ministry, "We don't have time for this." He said, glancing back, "I get caught, go to Dumbledore. I don't get caught, follow through."

And, with a bracing breath, Harry stepped through.

_-----------------------------Ministry of Magic_

"Are you three sure where you're going?" Hermione hissed from the back of the group, her eyes darting down each shadowed hallway.

"Well excuse us…" One of the twins started.

Harry tuned the whispered argument out; he focused his attention on the hallways around them, looking for the one from his vision. Being in the Ministry was a whole new experience altogether. Had this been another situation, Harry might have been more interested in looking around and taking in his surroundings, because the place _was_ impressive, to say the least.

At the moment, though, he was barely registering the scenery around him. He saw everything, yes, but unless it fit with the memories he had in his mind, then he completely ignored the sights. Hermione, he knew, was far more interested in what she saw, as she too had never been in the Ministry before.

"There's no one here." Ron whispered, breaking Harry's concentration.

"I know. This is the Ministry of Magic, there should be more guards here." Hermione answered. "We haven't run into anyone."

Fred nodded grimly. "If You-Know-Who was here, then he'd of already taken care of that."

"Do you feel him, Harry?" Ron asked, sounding urgent.

Shaking his head, Harry responded negatively. "No, I don't."

Ginny looked at him worriedly, "Well, if he's not here, then maybe Sirius…"

"No." Harry cut her off. "He's here, I know it." Without voicing it Harry mentally added, _He has to be…_

They walked a few moments longer before stopping again. Harry was about to angrily question them, but Ginny's face stopped him. Soundlessly, she nodded to her side, towards the very thing they'd been searching for.

"I think that's it." She whispered.

There was a lift next to them, but that wasn't what caught his attention. The corridor did. Lined with torches, it led to a black door that had nothing very significant about it.

Appearance aside, it was exactly what Harry had seen in his vision.

"Harry?" Hermione whispered, asking so much more.

He nodded, glancing at their determined faces. He had never been more thankful for such good friends in his entire life. "Are you all, um…"

"We're sure, mate." Ron said firmly, pulling Harry's arm down the hallway. Harry shrugged his grasp off, but followed Ron. He could feel himself tensing up, ready for whatever lay ahead. Sirius needed him, and it wasn't as though this would be his first meeting with the Dark Lord. He kept those thoughts in the back of his mind, using them prepare himself.

When they reached the door, it opened wide itself. Harry entered first, half expecting Voldemort to be torturing Sirius right in front of him. Instead, they were in the same room that Harry had found himself in during the dream. The circular room lined with doors. The door shut behind them quietly.

"They're blue" Hermione whispered, noticing the tapers on the walls. The candles were between the doors, all of which were just like the one they'd just come through. Black and unmarked.

It made differentiating them nearly impossible.

"Harry, which one was it that you went through in your dream?" Fred – or George – asked, nodding to the identical doors.

Closing his eyes, Harry tried to envision the room according to what he'd seen in the dream. A rumble in the room made Harry open his eyes, snapping them to the door right in front of them. "That one!"

He rushed forward, but the rumbling grew louder. Before Harry could reach the door the walls of the room started to spin. He felt Ginny grab his arm as the blue streaked by them. Against his better judgment, Harry snapped his eyes closed at the twins' orders.

After a second, the movement stopped.

"Still so sure, Harry?" George asked, grinning for a reason beyond Harry.

"Er…no." He admitted after looking over the doors. He glared at each of the doors, feeling a sense of frustration well up inside of him.

Ginny sighed. "We'll have to try them all then. You're sure you'd know which room it was if you saw it, Harry?"

Harry nodded the affirmative. "Of course."

There was a vague feeling of "what's behind door number one?" going through Harry's head. It felt for a second as though he was still in the cupboard under the stairs listening to Dudley's game shows.

"Go ahead, mate, you pick." Ron coaxed, snapping Harry from his inappropriate and nostalgic thoughts. He had to keep himself focused. Harry walked towards a random door and turned the knob. The door opened easily, just as it had in his dream.

It only took one glance in there for Harry to know that this room wasn't it though. The rest of the group moved forward, before Harry had the chance to say that it wasn't right. The twins went first, operating as though the eldest was the protector. It was natural for Ron and Ginny to follow their older brothers, but Harry found it a bit strange.

"Is this it, Harry?" George asked, glancing back at him.

Harry shook his head, already heading back out of the room to try again.

"I know what that is!" Hermione exclaimed, louder than the rest would have liked. She moved down the lowered floor towards a raised dais. Harry turned to see what she was talking about.

In the center of the amphitheatre room there was an ancient looking archway. Harry eyed it critically - it hardly looked as though it was standing strong.

"That thing looks like it's about to collapse!" Ron observed, "I bet if I blew…"

"Do you have any idea what this is?" Hermione asked, in awe still.

Ron looked as though he'd like to say something about how Hermione definitely would, but for once in his life the circumstances they were in kept him from starting a fight.

Harry moved back down the steps towards Hermione with Ginny by his side. "What is it, 'Mione?"

"I've read about it." Hermione said, quietly. "They used it once, as a means of execution, I think. If you go through this, then you…."

By then the twins had moved down the steps, "You what?" Fred asked.

"Die, I suppose." Hermione said, a bit more composed, "No one's ever come back to say so."

Harry moved closed to the archway, looking at the black tattered veil. There were wisps of noise coming through the lightly fluttering curtain. Harry leaned forward, trying to catch what it was. A person, maybe, he was slow to realize. Someone murmuring something. "Do you hear that?"

"No." Ron said shortly, coming around to pull him away from the archway. "Don't go so close."

"I hear it." Ginny said, quietly. "It's coming from behind there."

"There's no one here but us," Fred said. "We need to get a move on."

The group climbed back up the steps, with Harry trailing behind. He stopped for a second, and stared at the veil. Shaking his head, he moved back with the rest.

"Don't close that door." Hermione warned once he'd gotten back to the main room. She walked back to him and pulled the door closed a bit, just enough to expose the side she needed. She muttered something under her breath, and a fiery X appeared on the doorway.

"Good thinking." Harry said.

Hermione closed the door, and within seconds the wall started to spin again. This time though, they knew what room not to try.

When the spinning stopped, Harry went for the door closest to him. Opening it, he was sure that he'd never seen anything more wonderful in his life. "This is it!"

"Are you sure?" Ginny asked, but Harry paid her no mind. He was too busy matching the sight with his dream. He was completely sure.

The sparkling lights gave it away in an instant. He'd been here before, in his dream. There were the same clocks that he'd barely paid mind to before. He couldn't even really say that he'd remember them until he had opened the door.

"Come on." Harry urged, running. "This way."

The others followed, he was sure, but he didn't bother checking. Behind him, he heard one of the twins urging Ginny past something. Harry's eyes were set on the crystal bell jar that was ahead of them.

"Wands out, kiddies." George whispered to the group, and Harry nearly smacked himself. He'd put his wand away for the briefest of seconds, but that was still enough time to be caught unawares. He heard Ron sigh behind him, and knew that his best friend had much of the same regret.

Harry came to a halt in front of the door that was past the bell jar. He glanced quickly back at his friends. They looked grim and determined at the same time, and he felt yet another rush of gratitude that he had such good friends.

A good _family_, he finally realized.

Feeling bolstered by that rush of warmth the thought provided, Harry pushed the door open. This was where his dream had taken place, he knew it. The tall ceiling, and the towering shelves. Most importantly, those glass orbs that looked as though they'd been locked in the room for centuries.

Harry stood there for a second, almost shocked. He'd been sure that the second that the door was opened, his scar would start to hurt and burn like it had in the dream. Ginny's half finished sentence from earlier rang in his head. _"Well, if he's not here, then maybe Sirius…"_

"Which row is it, Harry?" Hermione asked, beside him now.

The dream memories sprang up in his minds eye, "Ninety-seven."

"Then I think we're to go right." Fred said, sounding more serious than Harry was comfortable hearing from the prankster twin. He was right though, the numbers were ascending as they went to the right.

George stayed behind, bringing up the rear and keeping an eye behind them for unseen assassins. Ginny was in front of him, closely preceded by Ron and Hermione with Fred and Harry leading the way. They watched the numbers on the rows creep higher as they went past row after dark, gloomy row. The alleys between them were long and dark, and no _lumos_ could even come close to lighting the other end from where they were.

_Seventy-six_

Harry felt his own breath start to come in short gasps. He wanted to urge the group along, Sirius needed them to hurry. He couldn't though, since rushing might mean that they go head first into Voldemort.

_Eighty-two_

"Do you hear anything?" Ron asked as he suddenly stopped.

Harry strained his head, as did the rest of them. "I think…"

"Keep quiet!" Hermione hissed so quietly that they needed to see her mouth just to make clear what she'd said.

Harry shook his head, if someone was down there, then there was little chance that they didn't know they'd soon have company. He motioned to continue though, seeing how fierce Hermione's eyes had become.

They shuffled forward as quietly as they could.

_Eighty-nine_

The noises got the slightest bit louder the closer they got to the right row.

_Ninety_

_Ninety-five_

_Ninety-seven_

"This is it!" Ginny whispered, before getting a hand put over her mouth by one of the twins.

Harry peered down the alley next to the row. He held his wand up a bit higher, hoping to see what it was at the end. His scar still didn't hurt…it couldn't be Voldemort. It had to be Sirius. He could practically feel it.

Slowly, Harry rushed down the row between the shelves of glass balls. He could see someone now, the form of a person, fallen down on the ground. Common sense could go hang…

"Sirius!" Harry yelled, not mindful of the danger such an action could cause. The noise they'd heard before had been the same harsh breathing he'd heard in his dream, how had he not realized?

Within seconds, Harry had reached his godfather. Sirius looked worse for the wear, looking slightly ill and a bit banged up. He was alive though, and that was enough for Harry.

"Sirius? Padfoot…" Harry called, gently reaching out and pulling on Sirius's shoulder.

Groggily, silver-blue eyes opened and widened when Harry was spotted. "Harry?" Sirius croaked. "What in hell are you doing here?"

Harry fought a smile, "We came to save you."

"We?" Sirius weakly asked, before looking behind him. Horror quickly settled on his drawn features as he saw the four Weasleys and Hermione standing anxiously behind Harry.

"I had a dream, a vision from Voldemort." Harry explained, quickly. He wanted to mention so much more, about how worried he'd been, how Remus and his father hadn't been there, and how Dumbledore didn't believe him. He held his tongue. They didn't have time for that, not now.

Sirius quickly pushed himself into a sitting position. "You shouldn't have come." He said, harshly.

Harry's eyes widened. "He was torturing you!"

"Better me than you!" Sirius hissed, moving his sore body into a crouching position before pushing up to stand. He swayed for a second.

"Are you okay, Sirius?" Hermione asked, quietly.

Beside Sirius, Harry stood too. "We'll leave, right now, Sirius. We'll go."

Sirius turned to Harry, looking all at once some horrible mix of exhausted, proud, worried and disappointed. "Damn straight we will. They'll be here soon, we've got to go."

The twins and Ginny looked appalled at the implication that Death eaters would soon be arriving. Ron and Hermione, however, were staring at something just past Sirius' shoulder.

"Harry?" Ron asked, his voice sounding off somehow.

"What, Ron?" Harry asked, glancing worriedly at Sirius, who was breathing heavily still.

Hermione nodded her head to behind Sirius. Harry turned, confused. What were they on about? He understood the second he scanned the shelf behind Sirius. There, looking just as dusty as the others on the shelves, was a glass orb with a yellowing label affixed to the shelf below it. There was a date written, one that was well over a decade past. Harry squinted in the darkness at the rest of the label, his mind trying to understand what he saw written:

**S.P.T to A.P.W.B.D**

**Dark Lord**

**And (?) Harry Potter**

"It's got my name on it!" Harry said, rather stupidly.

Sirius tugged his arm, "Forget it. We need to leave." He said, pulling Harry back up the shadowed aisle.

His godfather's voice made Harry feel dumb for coming, on some level. He felt like a child being scolded. Didn't Sirius understand why he'd risked himself to save his godfather?

"Wands at the ready!" Sirius barked behind him, echoing earlier.

He started running, and Harry had to run to keep pace. Sirius still held his arm in a firm grip.

"Sirius, who is 'they'?" Fred panted, as they turned the corner back into the main aisle.

"Yes, cousin!" A female voice called mockingly from the end of the hall, "Tell them who we are!"

Sirius stopped dead in his tracks. "Bellatrix."

"You didn't think Azkaban would hold us forever, did you?" The woman who Sirius had identified as Bellatrix called, "Not when our Lord had returned. He came for us! We knew he would!"

Harry's mind snapped back to the meeting that his father had allowed him to attend. Bellatrix Lestrange, who been Bellatrix Black before her marriage. Sirius's cousin.

Voldemort's Death Eater.

Again, he remembered more. Snape had said that Voldemort was working on getting his followers out of Azkaban. Clearly, tonight had been that night.

Slowly, Sirius let Harry's arm go and stalked forward. Harry snaked the hand not holding his wand out, but found that Fred had it gripped tightly in his own. The twins' hand was sweating, and Harry knew that he wasn't the only who'd made the connection. In fact, considering the Weasleys were a wizarding family and Hermione had read almost half of the Hogwarts library, he was probably the _last_ to make the connection.

Harry squinted his eyes as he looked down the hallway, trying to tell himself it was only his shoddy vision that was making shadowed figures appear out of thin air. He had a horrible feeling that his vision was not to blame.

"Be a good boy and fetch the prophecy, will you Potter?" a distinctively aristocratic drawl came from behind him.

Whirling around, Harry saw Lucius Malfoy standing there, looking almost bored. He held out one hand, palm up, for Harry to place the _prophecy_ in.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Harry said truthfully, his mind working frantically. How had Malfoy gotten there around Bellatrix? Especially without them seeing? He felt Ron tense beside him, that age-old Weasley hatred for anything Malfoy was clearly welling up inside of him. "Don't, Ron." His whispered.

Malfoy laughed in front of him. "Oh, Draco was right about you, Potter." He said, the chuckle sounding not at all humorous, "Such a little hero. Has Dumbledore trained you for battle, Harry?" Suddenly, the mocking laugh stopped. "Do not stall, boy, get that prophecy."

"What's so important about it?" Harry challenged. Behind him, he heard Sirius laugh, bark-like and grim. He could hear one of the twins yelling a stunning spell, and the other telling Hermione to duck. It was clear, that behind he and Ron, a full battle had truly begun. He wanted to turn, he wanted to help and make sure his friends and Sirius were all right.

He couldn't, though. Turning his back on Lucius Malfoy would be suicide, and he knew it.

"Didn't I just tell you not to stall?" Lucius sneered. He seemed to pay no mind to what was going on behind them. "Do you know what has happened, boys? The Dark Lord has broken out his very best followers. How could a group of teenagers and a worthless mutt ever fight off the likes of Bellatrix, Rabastan and Rodolphus Lestrange, Avery, Jugson, Crabbe, Dolohov-" Ron made a strangled noise in the back of his throat the second the name Dolohov came out of Lucius' mouth. Smirking, the elder Malfoy trailed off, but stared at Ron looking more than a little smug. "Oh, I had forgotten, Mr. Weasley, how careless of me."

Harry glanced to Ron, who was clenching his jaw furiously. "You still haven't told me about that prophecy." Harry reminded, hoping to distract both Lucius and Ron now.

"It doesn't matter if you know what it is, it only matters that you get it!" Lucius said, his cool drawl giving way to an almost thunderous yell. He was clearly at some sort of end, now.

Harry knew he couldn't do whatever it was that Lucius wanted. He still didn't understand what exactly that prophecy _was_, but it was to do with him and Voldemort wanted it. That was truly all he did need to know. He wouldn't hand it over to Malfoy, not ever.

"NO!" He yelled, reaching forward and shoving Lucius away, "Expelliarmus!"

Malfoy's wand flew out from his hand, and Ron quickly moved to kick it away. The blonde Death Eater gave a scream of fury, something so unlike his image would allow Harry to think he could actually do.

"Move!" Harry grabbed Ron and pulled him back down the hall between the rows of glass orbs. If they could get into the main room…

Ron ran along side him, continually glancing behind him to Lucius. "We've got to get to Siriu-"

"_Uhh_!" Harry groaned, doubling over with one hand clapped to his forehead. He stopped in his tracks, with Ron rushing ahead of him for a second before he could turn back to get to Harry.

Ron glanced over Harry's head to see Lucius Malfoy retrieve his wand finally, the man looked up at them with rage clearly written on his features. "Not _now_…" Ron muttered. Malfoy brought his wand up but before he could even start an incantation, Ron had grabbed Harry and pulled him into one of the alleyways.

"Harry, mate, we've got to go." Ron said, watching as a jet of red light flared past them.

"He's here!" Harry gasped, pulling himself upright. The pain in his scar was intense; he could _feel_ Voldemort's anger pushing into his own mind with its intensity.

"I had guessed!" Ron cried, peaking back out into the hall between the rows. "He's coming," he moaned a second later.

"We need to stall him so we can get out of this row!" Harry said, "Why'd you pull us in here, we're trapped!"

Ron didn't take his eyes off Malfoy, "I had to think fast!" He defended.

Malfoy was close enough to hear that, and was gaining even still. With an ugly sneer on his face, he mocked Ron. "A pity, isn't it, Mr. Weasley, that so often thinking is hard enough when given the proper amount of-"

"_Avis_!"

A long stream of small birds shot from Ron's wand, hitting Malfoy in the face one after the other. Once the spell had been said, Ron and Harry rushed out of the alley and down the hall.

"Birds! You conjured _birds_ to put off a _Death Eater_?" Harry shouted, running past the bell jar.

"Shut up, Harry!" Ron yelled.

Harry's eyes frantically searched the room for his godfather. Both Sirius and Bellatrix weren't in the room that they were in, but luckily, neither was Voldemort. Harry couldn't tell where Voldemort was through their link, but he had the feeling that the snake-man wasn't fighting so much as watching.

"_Protego_!" Ron shouted, suddenly.

Harry watched the line of the spell, tracing it to Ginny, who was fighting off a masked Death Eater. "Go help her!" Harry instructed, "I've got to find Sirius. Try and get everyone back towards the entrance!"

Ron looked to Harry for a second. Harry could see his worry shining clearly. Ron didn't want them to split up, and neither did he, but there wasn't much of a choice left.

Without a word, they went off into different directions. Harry raced forward, dodging the spells of other fights. Fred and George were fighting close to each other. One of them seemed to be always keeping an eye on Ginny. Relief flooded onto George's face as Ron reached their little sister, doing what they had been unable to do. Fred whirled around a Death Eater's spell. His eyes locked with Harry's for a second and Fred winked.

"All right, Harry?" he called.

Harry didn't have time to respond before he was out the door, but Fred didn't have much time to listen either.

In the circular room, all of the doors were thrown open. Harry glanced into the one next to him, but could see no one inside of it. His scar was still burning, making his eyes tear a bit. What was worse, he couldn't feel Voldemort's anger anymore. Instead, the scar burned even worse with a new emotion.

A giddy sense of success.

A flash of pain erupted in Harry's whole body, making him drop to his knees. He knew what it was, instantly. There had been a chance of that, he knew. He pushed himself up, and sent a spare thought to Ron. He hoped his friend was all right without the added protection.

"Come out, come out, cousin mine!" A female voice cackled from the door with a red X covering it. Harry smiled grimly, thanking both Hermione and Bellatrix for leading him to his godfather.

Rushing to the door, Harry heard the sound of stone being blasted apart.

"_Crucio_!"

_"Protego! Furnunclus!"_

Sirius was fighting against Bellatrix, dancing around the descending steps of the amphitheatre. The stone benches were being blasted apart by each of them, leaving debris and large chunks of the stone all over the room.

Bellatrix and Sirius were the only two in the room, and it was clear that they wanted it that way. Harry ducked down, trying to keep himself out of sight. If he could creep towards Bellatrix and get in a good stunning spell, then he might be able to help Sirius. His godfather looked like he needed it. Sirius was doing well against his cousin, but he had already been in a battle that he hadn't gotten the chance to heal from, and had been tortured by Voldemort. The he was standing and fighting still was amazing.

Harry watched Bellatrix closely as he crawled across the floors. She seemed to be the one causing most of the damage to the benches, sending blasting spells towards them while hurling nasty curses to Sirius. Her strategy appeared to be trying to both trip Sirius up with the chunks and increase the likelihood that one would actually hit her cousin.

"_Impedimentum_!" Sirius called, pointing towards the piece of stone flying towards him. His wand's direction snapped back to Bella once the stone was no longer in risk of hitting him. "_Incarcerous_!"

Bellatrix sidestepped the ropes, screaming back her own spell. Harry was making his way to her, and had already closed the gap by half. It didn't help that Sirius and Bella were dancing their way down the steps, further towards the center. He eyed the crumbling archway, hoping that Sirius knew what it was and to stay away from it.

Then, behind them, the doors burst open. Harry could hear the sounds of people yelling. He smiled, knowing the voice that was calling his name.

"Harry!" James yelled, rushing in with Remus. Behind them, Harry could see Moody, Kingsley and Tonks running.

Relief flooded Harry. He wasn't sure how much longer Sirius could last, let alone his friends. Aurors were what they needed, ones trained for fighting Death Eaters.

Harry turned back to Sirius, hoping to yell a warning about the Veil.

Sirius had seen James and Remus too. His fellow Marauders were rushing down the steps. Harry was about halfway down, in the rows of destroyed benches. Sirius and Bellatrix were fighting in the dead center of the room.

"Come on, you can do better than that!" Sirius yelled, feeling cocky at the arrival of the cavalry. He deflected Bella's curse and smiled at her tauntingly.

She screamed, but didn't back off as Harry had hoped. He watched, horrified, as a jet of light hit Sirius in the chest. He stumbled back, trying to right his balance, but he was hopelessly messed when he tripped on one of the small boulders that Bellatrix had created out of the unfortunate benches.

"Sirius!" Harry cried, jumping up from his hiding spot. Sirius' face looked surprised that Bella had landed the spell onto him, but he seemed unaware of what he was falling towards.

It seemed to take ages for Sirius to fall.

* * *

_Now, with a cliffhanger like that, let's hope I don't take another several months to update._

_I hope that you all enjoy the chapter, and excuse the changes that I made to JKR's original. _

_Please, review! _

_**Stars Enchantress**_

**Coming Soon(er than last time) to Return of the Father: **The End of It All

NOTE: Not the last chapter

WARNING: The next chapter contains a character death


	40. The End of It All

**The Return of the Father**

Chapter Forty: The End of It All

_Thank you to all of the reviewers! _

_As a present of sorts, for being so late, **I wrote review responses to the last chapter.** _

_ALSO: **I wrote a companion story to Return!** Right now, it's posted at my livejournal, but in a few months time I'll post it here. It's called Fathers and Best Friends, and it's the conversation we didn't see after James and Ron met. It's in James' POV. _

_Here is a link to my profile (you can also find one in my profile here), so you can head to whichever post it is you'd like to see. **REMEMBER:** Take out the spaces, and you don't need an account to see or comment on anything in my LJ._

_http / starenchantress . livejournal . com / profile_

_------------------------------The Department of Mysteries _

_Sirius had seen James and Remus too. His fellow Marauders were rushing down the steps. Harry was about halfway down, in the rows of destroyed benches. Sirius and Bellatrix were fighting in the dead center of the room. _

"_Come on, you can do better than that!" Sirius yelled, feeling cocky at the arrival of the cavalry. He deflected Bella's curse and smiled at her tauntingly. _

_She screamed, but didn't back off as Harry had hoped. He watched, horrified, as a jet of light hit Sirius in the chest. He stumbled back, trying to right his balance, but he was hopelessly messed when he tripped on one of the small boulders that Bellatrix had created out of the unfortunate benches. _

"_Sirius!" Harry cried, jumping up from his hiding spot. Sirius' face looked surprised that Bella had landed the spell onto him, but he seemed unaware of what he was falling towards. _

_It seemed to take ages for Sirius to fall._

"Sirius!" Harry tried to rush forward, to do something – _anything_ – to stop Sirius from falling into that damned Veil. He hadn't come all this way just to lose his godfather to glorified drapery.

"Harry, no!" Remus shouted, wrapping his arms around the struggling teenager. Harry kicked and fought against the werewolf's arms. His yell drowned out James's first spell.

"I have to get him, no!" Harry screamed, fighting wildly. His breath was coming out in short gasps, panic flooding him.

Remus didn't respond, just tightened his hold on the boy. Instead, he watched James shout out spells. He felt his own chest tighten at the sight they'd run in on. Sirius was in no condition to be fighting with a Death Eater like Bellatrix Lestrange. She was a loose cannon, and more than a little crazy.

Both he and James knew what that veil was; they'd remembered it instantly after running into the room. James had to catch Sirius in time, or Padfoot would be gone forever.

He wanted to rush over there, help in some way. He couldn't, though, not with Harry trying to do the same. He held onto the boy as tightly as he could, he wanted to say something reassuring to him, but he couldn't seem to make his mouth work. He kept his eyes glued on Sirius.

"_Petrificus Totalus!"_ James cried, making Sirius's body stop it's struggle backwards. Then, without missing a beat, _"Mobilicorpus!"_ He angled his wand straight up, changing Sirius's momentum so that he was levitated straight above the archway.

Harry felt as though he couldn't breathe, even seeing his godfather floating out of harms way couldn't help. His mind tried to catch up with what his eyes had just seen.

Sirius had been so close, so very close to dying, just like Hermione had said. What would have happened if his father hadn't been quick enough?

What if Sirius had stumbled right into the Veil and beyond it?

"Bastard!" Bellatrix screamed. "I'll teach you a lesson, Potter, just you wait!" she yelled.

Harry turned to look at her, eyes wide. He'd forgotten about her totally, while he'd been watching Sirius. His scar hurt so badly, and his heart was beating frantically still after watching Sirius fall. Her screaming didn't help. "Shut your mouth!" He yelled.

"Harry! Be quiet!" James called. With a flick of his wand, he started undoing the spells on Sirius. His eyes were torn between making sure that Sirius had a safe landing and watching as Bellatrix seemed to turn her fury onto his son.

Remus pulled Harry back and behind him, drawing his wand. "Leave him alone, Bellatrix." He growled.

"Oh, is the werewolf going to protect the little boy?" Bella taunted, drawing her own wand.

"Yes." Remus said simply, before, "_Silencio_!"

Bellatrix dodged, and Harry had a horrible feeling that this was going to start all over again. She had the same idea too, casting what seemed to be her favorite spell. "_Crucio_!" She cast it not at Remus, who was the one fighting her, but at Harry, who jumped out of the way. Twice was enough of that spell, and he was in no hurry to have it again.

The spell harmlessly fell onto one of the few intact benches, but Harry hardly saw it. His scar erupted in a burst of pain unlike anything it had ever been before. Not during battles, not during Voldemort's return, and not during any vision. He cried out, making James whip his head back from Sirius to his son. "Harry!" He shouted, thinking the Unforgivable had hit its mark.

"No!" Harry moaned, trying to explain the situation, "Scar…Dumbledore!" He said, not caring as to how he knew that it was Dumbledore causing Voldemort's anger.

Harry felt as though he was underwater, and above the haze, he could hear that Bellatrix and Remus hadn't stopped their little battle. He knew he should get out of the way, but he was in so much pain he could hardly move. Whimpering, he curled himself to a ball and lay there, out in the open.

He listened half-heartedly as one of Bella's spells hit on Remus, throwing him back. Another one of her blasting curses, no doubt. His scar seemed to be pulsing, throbbing with Voldemort's anger. He felt a few tears stream down his cheeks.

"Baby's sick, daddy!" Bella yelled. "I'll help him."

"_Avada…"_

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

A brilliant flash of green light exploded around him, he could even see it through his closed eyelids. Harry listened as only one body hit the ground, not far from where he was laying. He struggled to open his eyes, then blinked rapidly to clear the fog that seemed to cover them. He felt his breath rush out of his lungs.

He tried to roll away, but his body seemed frozen as he stared incomprehensively at what lay in front of him.

Bellatrix Lestrange's eyes were open, but she was unmistakably dead. She had fallen not a foot away from him, her eyes looking cold and angry still.

He gave a hoarse cry, trying to push himself away from the dead woman's body. Hands reached for him, but he tried to shove them away too. His heart was hammering in his chest, complete shock taking over.

"_Harry, Harry…it's okay." _

_Dad_, Harry realized and turned into the hands that were trying to hold him. Instantly, James wrapped his arms around his distraught son, whispering what he hoped were calming words into the boy's ear. "It's okay, you're fine. We're leaving here, Harry, don't worry…"

Remus stood next to James and Harry for a second, his eyes soft. They hardened as they looked to Bellatrix, who had tried to fire a killing curse to Harry. If James hadn't fired his own to her before she could complete the incantation…

He wouldn't let his thoughts go there. Instead, he let the father and son have a moment. Turning, his eyes sought out his other brother, "Padfoot?"

Sirius was stretched out on the raised dais, but safely away from the veil. He was awake, and his eyes were focused to James and Harry. He looked as though he longed to go over and comfort his godson too, but lacked the strength to move.

"Remmy." Sirius said, quietly. He didn't turn to look to Remus. "Is he-is he okay?"

Remus knelt down next to Sirius, taking in the labored breathing, sheen of sweat and lines of exhaustion marring his face, "Harry is all right, it was his scar. What about you, Sirius?"

"I'm okay…tired." Sirius whispered, looking at Remus for just a second. "You?"

"I'm good. Her blasting curse glanced me enough so that I didn't break ribs, but it did knock me away from Harry." Remus explained bitterly, ignoring the ache in his chest.

Sirius's eyes strayed back to the pair sitting on the floor. "Get her away from them."

Remus waved his wand towards Bellatrix. "_Mobilicorpsus_." The limp body floated in the air and then gently followed the direction Remus's wand took it. Ending the incantation before lowering her to the ground was the petty revenge he decided to take.

"Help me sit up." Sirius said, struggling to do it himself. That he'd even asked surprised Remus. He did as he was told without a word, knowing Sirius wasn't up for a fight just then.

Just as he got Sirius sitting up, resting against a transfigured pillow, Tonks peaked into the doorway. "Is everyone okay?" she called, rushing into the room.

This seemed to startle Harry, he nearly jumped right out James's hold. James pulled his son back into his arms, smoothing his hair back from his forehead. "What happened with Dumbledore, Tonks?"

"I didn't see," She said, walking down the steps. "Moody did, he said Dumbledore seemed to make a beeline for Voldemort, they fought for a few minutes."

Remus stood up, "Voldemort's gone?"

"He left, as did most of the Death Eaters." She clarified, "The Weasley twins knocked Dolohov unconscious, so we've got him. Hermione stunned Nott, and he's been taken into custody. We didn't even bother to wake him up. Other aurors have arrived, so they can figure out who else we might have gotten. Dumbledore is dealing with the ministry, now. He seems fine."

"Ron, Hermione…" Harry said, pushing away from James enough to see Tonks, but not enough to leave the embrace.

Tonks smiled, "They're okay, mostly. Just a few injuries, nothing that Madame Pomfrey can't fix. The worst is Hermione's broken ankle."

Harry seemed to visibly relax at hearing that everyone would be okay. He slumped into his father's chest. Gently, James scooped Harry up and stood, so that he was carrying his son. "Moony, can you help Sirius?"

"Of course." Remus replied, already bending to help Sirius stand. He'd like to do more, but he knew Sirius well enough to know that anything more would be violently rejected. "Come on, Padfoot."

Tiredly, they made their way back up the steps and out of the Department of Mysteries. Bellatrix was left lying to the side, eyes still open.

They'd let the Ministry deal with her.

Yes, this is shorter, but the next chapter won't be. Hopefully you all enjoyed this anyway. At least I won't get anyone yelling about Sirius!

_Please, excuse the lack of line break here, but the option wasn't working in the document manager. _

_Remember to head over to my livejournal so that you can read the side story and check the review responses! _

_**Stars Enchantress **_

**Coming Next in The Return of the Father: **The Prophecy


	41. The Prophecy

**The Return of the Father**

The Prophecy

:----------------------:

_Thank you so much to all of the reviewers for the last chapter!_

_Also, I've posted Fathers and Best Friends on now. This is a side story to Return, so I hope that you'll all check it out!_

_---------------------------The Hospital Wing, Hogwarts_

"Why do I get the horrible feeling that she's going to tie us to the beds for a month?" James asked, looking from side to side.

From his left, Harry shot him a look so venomous that James serious hoped that Madame Pomfrey was planning on giving the fourteen year old a sleeping potion. Remus, being slightly more tolerant of bed rest because of his lycanthropic life, laughed as though James was trying to be funny. His laughter only seemed to annoy Harry more.

"I wouldn't mind sleeping for two years or so." Sirius said, his eyes closed and head resting on a mountain of pillows.

James turned to his right to look at Sirius. "Well, you might have an excuse." He allowed.

Sirius merely grunted in response.

The Hospital Wing's beds were entirely filled up with patients. Harry, James, Sirius and Remus were laying side by side in a row of beds. They'd been forced there nearly the second they'd entered the castle by Madame Pomfrey, who looked so harassed and disapproving that they'd meekly followed her into the beds without a word of fuss.

Hermione, Ron, and George were stuck in beds opposite them. Madame Pomfrey had reluctantly released Ginny and Fred, who were both entirely healthy, when it was clear that finding free beds was going to be an issue if she kept them all. Further down, Arthur was still laid up and was chatting with Kingsley, who was getting three rather nasty looking gashes on his chest healed up by Pomfrey.

"Do you really think she'll keep us here for long, Dad?" Harry asked, sounding as though he knew the answer.

James smiled gently at his son, who'd managed to calm himself down once they were out of the Department of Mysteries. No doubt, he was still upset over what had happened with Bellatrix, but James was hoping that the feelings would fade. "I think so, green eyes."

"It won't be so bad, Harry." Remus reassured the teenager. "Think of it this way, where else are you going to go? Your friends are here."

"I'm here!" Sirius called sleepily from his bed.

Harry smiled then, finally. James noticed that it didn't really reach his eyes and sighed. "Come over here, kid." He said, pulling up his covers to let Harry sit with him for a while.

His son seemed reluctant. After all, cuddling with his father in private was all well and good. Cuddling with his father while his two best friends were lying across from them?

Entirely different.

"Oh come on, Harry. Ron is practically snoring and won't wake up anytime soon after that restorative potion Poppy gave him. Hermione is reading, and probably won't care that you're in the bed with me." James said, sounding exasperated but not at all meaning it.

Still needing a bit of reassurance, Harry got out of his own bed and slipped into his fathers, vowing not to sleep there. He wasn't _that_ big of a baby, or at least, he hoped he wasn't.

James wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulders, but luckily didn't do anything else dad-like. "How do you feel?" he asked, looking down on his son.

"Okay." Harry shrugged. He was sore, to be sure. His head didn't throb from the scar anymore, but neither was it feeling wonderful. Madame Pomfrey had given him a headache potion to help, and it had mostly worked, but Voldemort's anger when Dumbledore showed up was just too deep to be counteracted so quickly.

Frowning at the short answer, James had to keep himself for asking again. "Better?" he restrained himself to.

Nodding shortly, Harry conceded, "Yeah. Loads."

"Good." Remus said, smiling at Harry from his bed. He was one down from Sirius, so he wasn't directly next to them. "There's nothing worse than feeling miserable _and_ being in the hospital wing, is there?" He laughed.

"You're entirely too happy, Moony, what'd she give you?" Sirius muttered around a yawn.

Remus smirked, "Nothing, but I think we should call her over here to get you some of whatever she gave Ron." He said, indicating to the redhead who was now all out snoring.

"Must have been good." Sirius said, popping one eye open to glance at Ron.

"It might not have been. Ron goes under pretty easily."

All four turned to the newcomer's voice. Charlie Weasley grinned at his youngest brother, who snoozed on oblivious to the world.

"Charlie, lovely to see you old chap!" George called from where he was laying. "Of course, you would have been an even lovelier sight a few hours ago, you must understand." He smirked and waved a hand in the air as a greeting before turning back to Madame Pomfrey. The mediwitch seemed to be making her double back rounds, now that all of the major injuries had been treated. Harry nearly groaned, that meant she'd be at his bed soon.

"Charlie, where have you been?" Remus asked, staring intently at the second eldest Weasely boy.

Charlie grabbed a chair, pulling it to sit in between James and Sirius' beds. "The Ministry. I've been helping Tonks sort things."

Sirius opened both eyes at that. "They let you help?"

"_She_ let me help." Charlie amended with a smile. "_They're_ so confused that they probably didn't even notice that I wasn't an Auror."

James wondered a bit about the smile that Charlie had on. It looked entirely to wide to just be due to pulling one over on the Ministry. Charlie caught his eye and winked at his suspicious look. James relaxed a bit then, and just hoped that for Charlie's sake that Sirius never found out that the dragon tamer had set out to tame his cousin. "Nice job, man."

"It's utter chaos down there. _How did Death Eaters get in? How did You-Know-Who get in? How did a group of teenagers get in_?" Charlie said, mimicking the pompous voice of Cornelius Fudge. "_What do we tell the Prophet? Where's Dumbledore_?"

Sirius snorted, "I knew the Prophet would be in there somewhere."

"I'm surprised it wasn't first. His image is often all he thinks about." Remus agreed.

"Prophet aside," James said, "I'd like to know the rest of that too." He glanced down to his son, who was conveniently staring at Charlie.

Charlie nodded, "It's the topic of the hour. Dumbledore was at the Ministry for a while. He left though, when and how nobody knows."

"He probably knows some secret passage out, so he can escape Fudge dramatically." Sirius lightly mocked the Headmaster's often mysterious ways. "More power to him, I say, Fudge is a right idiot. I'd want to get away too."

Harry nodded too, having met the man a number of times. "He's okay though?"

"Who, Dumbledore?" Charlie asked, "Of course he is. You-Know-Who can't keep him down." He smiled easily at the tense boy.

"Say Voldemort." James corrected. "Were any other Death Eaters caught?"

Charlie, unlike Ron, had worked up to keeping himself from flinching at the name. Saying it, however, was an entirely different quidditch game, "Tonks told you about Dolohov and Nott, right?" He waited for them to give him confirmation. "Right. Walden Macnair was found, also."

"Malfoy? Rodolphus Lestrange? Rabastan?" Sirius asked, sounding urgent despite how tired he was. "Any of them?"

"No, none. We almost had Malfoy. Some new recruit was sure that they had him cornered, but he disappeared." Charlie said, sounding a bit bitter himself. He was glad he'd stuck with Tonks. It had been interesting, to be in the thick of things with Aurors, even a group in disarray like the British Ministry's, but the information that he'd gotten – the stuff that Fudge would normally keep from the public at all costs – was well worth it. Even still, he wouldn't want to put up with it on a daily basis. Dragons were far preferable to Ministry members.

"Fudge won't mention that at all." Harry said.

Charlie agreed with Harry, but was unsettled by the look on the boy's face. He looked older, somehow. Battle weary. He didn't like seeing a kid as young as Harry looking like that. It wasn't right. He remembered talking with Bill about that, before, when James had first arrived back. His older brother had found it just as unnerving as he had, but they were both hoping that having a father again might change that in Harry.

"Rodolphus couldn't have known what happened to Bellatrix then." Sirius said, sure he was right. "She always had him wrapped around his finger. He might have honestly loved her. He wouldn't have left her behind, no way."

"Then he must not have known," Charlie said, pulling his gaze from Harry. "Because her body is in Auror custody, now.

James hugged Harry after feeling his son shudder at the word _body_. He pressed a quick kiss to the dark head resting against him.

"I'm okay." Harry said softly.

"I'll be the judge of that, Mr. Potter." Madame Pomfrey said, bustling up to the bed. How she'd heard him was a complete guess. "Kindly return to your proper bed."

Harry groaned, sounding more like a teenager to Charlie's ear. The sound reassured him. "I'll just let you get on with it, Madame Pomfrey." He said, standing from his chair as Harry got into his original bed. "I'll come back, if there's anything new." He said, talking softer so that only the Marauders would hear him.

Remus nodded, "Please do, Charlie. Be careful."

Charlie nodded, "I will." He waved to his father, and glanced fondly at George and Ron, as both were sleeping now. Hermione was settling down herself, book finally out of her hands. Quickly, he left the Hospital Wing.

"Think Tonks will be able to smuggle him back in?" Sirius said, watching the redhead leave.

"Hopefully." James said, "I hate being on the outside like this."

Remus smirked, "Now you know how I always felt."

"That's not fair, Remmy." Sirius shot out, "We always made sure to tell you what we knew."

"After the excitement was over." Remus pointed out.

Rolling his eyes, James tuned them out. "Anything I should be worried over, Madame Pomfrey?" he asked, nodding to his son.

"Other than his alarming frequency of hospital visits or his complete disregard for his own health and safety?" Madame Pomfrey asked, watching Harry blush, "No. He'll be fine with a bit of rest." Harry opened his mouth, but she beat him to it, "_Supervised _rest."

Harry groaned again, but didn't try and haggle his way out of it. Madame Pomfrey was normally very firm about supervised rest after a simple quidditch injury, so he knew he had no chance of anything but after an actual battle.

"Now," Madame Pomfrey started, "I will be giving you all a choice here. You can either fall asleep on your own or I will provide a sleeping aide to you. You have thirty seconds to make the choice."

Instantly, the four shut their eyes and slid down into the covers.

_---------------------------Four Hours Later_

"Hey, Harry, wake up for a second."

Harry screwed his eyes shut tighter, sure that it wasn't morning yet. He hadn't been asleep nearly long enough, and his bed was so warm that he wasn't relishing the idea of moving just yet.

"Prongslet, wake up."

The voice sounded a bit annoyed, which was hardly further incentive to just up and get out of bed, or even to open his eyes.

"I cannot believe you're making me do this." The voice grumbled and Harry heard something shift. A second later, a hand grasped his shoulder.

That got his attention.

Blearily, Harry's eyes opened and he struggled to focus in the dark room. "Sirius?" he asked, pushing himself up onto his elbow.

"About time." Sirius mumbled, sitting down onto his godson's bed. "I didn't think I'd need to actually come over here and shake you to get you up."

"You didn't shake me." Harry pointed out, still entirely in the dark – figuratively and literally. "Are you okay?" he asked, sounding concerned.

"I'm fine." Sirius said shortly. "This really isn't about me, rather you."

That didn't bode well with Harry one bit. "Me?" he squeaked, too nervous to be upset with his childish slip.

Sirius sighed, "I was going to leave this until we were released, but now I think that it's better if we get this out of the way." He explained.

Harry's head ducked under, "I'm sorry." He said, quietly.

"For what?" Sirius said gently. He hated seeing Harry so unsure of himself, now especially. He cursed Dumbledore and the Dursleys both, one for making a young boy believe that he should be able to do anything, and the others for making and even younger boy believe that he was worth nothing.

Harry stayed silent for a minute, thinking that over. He was sorry that Sirius was mad at him. He was sorry that he'd led his friends into trouble. He was sorry that Sirius had almost been killed. He wasn't sorry for going to save his godfather though, not one bit. He knew that neither his father nor Sirius would want to hear that. They'd tell him he was too young and it was too dangerous, he knew. It was a lecture he hoped to avoid. "I don't know." He said finally.

Sirius chuckled quietly. He was hardly surprised. "Are you sorry for coming to the Department of Mysteries?"

"No." Harry said, raising his eyes to meet Sirius'.

"I'll leave that to James. It's not my place." Sirius said, secretly glad. James would have his work cut out for him trying to teach a boy that had been taught to go out and act that maybe sitting back and accepting help might be the better course.

"You were mad at me, weren't you?" Harry asked, his voice so quiet that Sirius had to strain to listen.

He sighed again, feeling out of his depth in this. "Yes, I was. You understand why though, right?"

Harry nodded, "Because I came. And because I brought the others with me."

Sirius leaned his head back, trying to think of what he wanted to say. "Harry, I'm not going to sit here and give you this whole list of reasons why you shouldn't have come. That lecture is your father's to give, and I don't envy him one bit."

"Do you think he's really mad?" Harry asked, looking towards James's bed, where the lucky bastard was sleeping peacefully.

"Mad? Maybe a bit. Concerned, yes." Sirius said. He turned the conversation back to where he wanted it. "James isn't what I wanted to talk about. What you did today is brave and heroic and all that. I can't say I'm sad to know that you'd take a risk like that for me. In fact, I might just be the tiniest bit pleased." Sirius said, nudging Harry a bit. The boy smiled. "But Harry, I'm not worth risking your life."

"You are." Harry shot back, instantly. "I'd do it all over again, Sirius."

"But I need you to promise that you won't." Sirius said, sounding far more serious than he ever did.

"I can't do that." Harry said, "I couldn't ever just sit back if I knew that you were being hurt, Sirius."

Sirius smiled and ruffled Harry's messy hair, "I know that, I really do. But, Harry, there are other ways to help. How do you think I felt today, seeing you standing there?"

Harry opened his mouth, and then closed it, frowning. "Angry, I think." He said, unsure.

"I won't deny that." Sirius dryly admitted. "Mostly, though, I was worried. More worried than any godfather should ever have to feel." Harry hung his head back down, but Sirius wouldn't let him stay that way for long. He brought his hand under Harry's chin and forced the teenager to look back at him. "I was terrified that something would have to you, all because you'd run to my rescue. You can't do that to me again, Harry. I don't know what I would do if anything happened to you because of me."

Harry stared at Sirius, feeling the exact same way. "You would have come if it were me."

"I would have, in an instant. I'd die for you, and I think you know that." Sirius said without hesitation. "The flipside of that though, is that I'd die if anything happened to you."

Harry closed his eyes then, knowing exactly what Sirius meant. "I know." He whispered.

"That's why I was mad, Harry - because I couldn't even think straight, I wanted you out of there so badly. I know you're not used to it, but it' s the guardian's job to keep the child out of harms way, not the child's job to save the guardian." Sirius explained. "I need you to promise me that you won't ever come and try to rescue me again. Bellatrix barely counts as a casualty, but someone far more important could have died today, if your dad didn't rush in. And I don't mean me."

Harry jerked his head back out of Sirius's hold and dove towards the man. His arms wrapped around Sirius' neck and his face burrowed into the soft fabric of the hospital wing pajamas. "I promise."

Sirius hugged the boy back, smiling proudly. Somehow, he thought another wall had crumbled.

_-------------------------------The Next Morning_

Madame Pomfrey looked livid.

Harry actually leaned back away from her a bit, and the three Marauders felt the waves of anger rolling off of her. Her voice was tight and barely controlled; "The Headmaster has requested the four of you meet in his office in twenty minutes time for a meeting."

"We'll, um, get dressed now then," Remus said hesitantly, "So that we have lots of time to walk down slowly."

Madame Pomfrey narrowed her eyes at Remus, now almost shaking. She said nothing else before turning on her heel and walking back to her office. She slammed the door.

"Dumbledore better watch his back." Sirius said, wincing at the loud noise.

"It must be an important meeting, if he's willing to risk…_that_." Harry said, nodding his head towards Madame Pomfrey's office.

Sirius laughed for a second, "Do we have any idea what the old guy wants?" He asked, ignoring the look Remus shot him.

"I have an idea." James said quietly. His eyes were locked on Harry, who was only then aware of the intense gaze.

Remus picked up on what James meant. "Are you going to let him explain it?"

James let out a long breath. "I think he has to." He said, simply.

"Explain what, Dad?" Harry asked, looking between Remus and James. "You're going to let the Professor explain _what_?"

James gave his son a sad smile, "The prophecy."

-------------------------------------------

_I had originally intended this chapter to show the explanation, but now I've thought differently. I think the last could chapters have been entirely too book 5 based, and I'm sure you're as sick of the re-reading as I am of writing over what we already know. I'm sorry to anyone who was really looking forward to that. _

_Well, guys, it's been **two whole years** now! This story is going strong and I'd like to thank all of the readers who have stuck with me from that first summer storm. I hope you've all been having as much fun as me. _

_I'd love to hear what you all think of the chapter. _

_**Stars Enchantress **_

Coming Soon in Return of the Father: Kidnapping


	42. Kidnapping

**The Return of the Father**

Kidnapping

----------

_Thank you many times over to the reviewers!_

----------------------------Hogwarts – Middle of the Night

"I think I'm getting a little bitter." Harry grumbled, staring at his father. "Tomorrow night, I'm hexing anyone who even taps me before I'm ready to get up."

"Oh, hush." James said, pulling Harry's arm along. He had really been hoping that Harry would be in a better mood, considering what he was pulling his son along for. He wanted to talk to Harry, seriously as a father this time. Harry had done an amazing job in trying to save Sirius, but it had been the wrong choice for a fourteen year old boy to make.

That wasn't the only thing they had to discuss. The prophecy still weighed heavily on James' mind, so he could hardly imagine what his son was thinking. He'd held off chatting Harry up right away, because he'd wanted to give his son a chance to process the information. Harry'd had the entire day to think, and James knew that if he wanted to get Harry out of the Hospital Wing for a talk, then he needed to do it at night, when no one would be around to butt in. Ideally, he would have wanted to do this later, alone and not in the dead of the night, but Madame Pomfrey wasn't ready to let them go and it didn't seem as if she was even close to it.

So he had, essentially, kidnapped his son away for this. At least, that was how Madame Pomfrey would see it when she woke up and saw they were gone.

"Dad, Sirius has already done this with me. It was wrong for me to go to the Ministry like that, I get it. I'm not sorry, but I get it. Do we really need to go over this again?" Harry said, whining.

James frowned, but said nothing as he opened the door to Sirius and Remus' rooms. "Sit down." He directed, pushing his tired and cranky son down to the chair.

"Guess we are doing this again." Harry mumbled. He fell down into the chair and avoided looking at his father.

James sat down on the coffee table, so that he was right opposite his son. He didn't say a word, but rather just stared at Harry. The teenager kept his gaze on the floor, the walls, anywhere but the disappointed father in front of him.

Finally, he snapped.

"If you're not going to say anything, then I'm-"

Harry tried to get up but James pushed him back down. "Don't be a brat." James said, keeping his voice even.

"Then what the hell do you want me to do? You're just sitting here, staring at me!" Harry shot back, angry and frustrated all at once. He didn't want to be sitting in Sirius and Remus' rooms, he didn't want to be facing another talk like this, he didn't want to think right then either. All he wanted was to be back in his bed, asleep and unaware.

"I'm waiting for you to drop this little tantrum so we can talk." James said, pushing his son's shoulders when the boy looked as though he was going to try and get up again.

Harry let out a long breath. He clenched his jaw and waited a moment, then, "Fine, tantrum over." He said, trying hard not to sound like he didn't mean it.

James gave his son a tight smile. "I suppose you do have a few reasons to be upset."

"I don't want to talk about it." Harry said quickly, this time meaning it completely.

"I think you have to." James said, gently. "I know how you're feeling, Harry…"

"No, you really don't." Harry shot back, standing up. His father let him walk away this time, sensing that Harry was at some sort of breaking point. It would certainly explain the completely unHarry-like behavior from a moment ago. Not that he hadn't anticipated it. No matter what Harry thought, the honeymoon period of having a new father would wear off. He would resent the restrictions that James could and ultimately would put on him. He'd test his boundaries, to see exactly what James could tolerate.

James was sure that this would be the first in a line of many rebellious moments that Harry would have. He might understand where his son was coming from, but he wouldn't tolerate complete tantrums from him either. It was best that Harry understood that right away. He clearly did, considering how quickly he'd let go of that angry resentful attitude when James had called him on it. "I think I've got some idea, green eyes."

"Really? Because last I checked, you don't have an horrible prophecies hanging over your head!" Harry called back, sounding a bit hysterical at the end. James stood up and cross the room to Harry to pull him into a hug. Luckily, the teenager didn't shove him back.

"No, you're right, I don't. But there's one hanging over my son's head, which is almost as bad." James said quietly. He held onto Harry until the boy's breathing evened out, then he let him go.

"Thanks." Harry said quietly, feeling a bit embarrassed. "Now can you please explain why we're having this nice little chat in the middle of the night?"

James laughed, not entirely upset at the swift change in atmosphere. "There's a few things I wanted to talk to you about, and I didn't need the audience that the hospital wing would provide."

"And it couldn't have waited?" Harry asked, sounding like a petulant teen. James didn't too much mind this time, because now Harry wasn't so much putting on the face to hide how he felt, but rather to play a bit. "You realize Madame Pomfrey is going to hurt you for this."

"It's my parental right to take you out of the hospital wing, actually." James said, sitting down again. He watched, pleased, when Harry sat down in his own chair.

Harry's mouth dropped open, "And you haven't taken me out yet because?"

"Well, as overzealous as she is, Madame Pomfrey does know what she's on about." James admitted. He felt like he was vaguely betraying his inner teenage prankster just by saying such a thing out loud. Harry's face did indicate some degree of betrayal, if the scrunched up nose and pained expression was anything to go by. "Oh, stop it." James snapped.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Fine, but I'm telling Sirius you said that."

"All right, one: Sirius is, at the moment, too enamored with his hospital bed to be very willing to move and two: if you do that I'll put Sirius in charge of your punishment and who knows what sick thing he'll come up with." James threatened.

"What?" Harry yelled quickly, "What do you mean, punishment?"

"Surely you've heard of them," James said, smirking, "I imagine that Mrs. Weasley has provided plenty of good examples."

Harry just stared at his father as if he'd never seen him before. James could hardly blame the kid, considering he'd never come across as the disciplinarian before. Hell, he was actually a little surprised about the whole thing himself. Lily had clearly been the choice for the stern parent. Unfortunately, he was the only one left to fill that role for his son.

Of course, he wasn't going to lie and say he wasn't just the tiniest bit smug about the whole thing.

"Now, let's go over what this punishment is for, shall we?" James continued on, brazenly. "You deliberately disobeyed me when I told you to stay in the hospital wing. You did not notify an adult when you first had the dream - "

"Hey!" Harry cut him off angrily, "I did too. I told Dumbledore and he didn't listen to me!"

James bit back a burst of anger. "Fine," He said, slowly. "We'll knock that off the list. For the record, Dumbledore was wrong to ignore you like that. He's entirely too used to being right in these situations, and he's gotten very good at patting you on the head and sending you on your way. I think, after this, he'll be more likely listen."

"About time." Harry muttered hotly under his breath. It was clear that he was still a little angry with Dumbledore, and not just for what had happened with Sirius. The prophecy and the fact that Dumbledore had waited so long to tell him about it was no doubt the cause of a lot of that anger.

James ignored that for now. Harry was entitled to that bit of hostility and it was probably important that he work through it on his own. "Also," he continued after a second, "If Dumbledore, or anyone else for that matter, doesn't believe you when you've had a dream like this, then go to another adult. I don't care if you have to track down the entire castle, Harry. Don't just take matters into your own hands like that, okay?"

Harry looked down at the floor for a second before giving his father a tight nod. "All right," He said, finally, "But I reserve the right to try and help by myself if no one will listen."

James frowned, but didn't say anything. Rationally, he knew it was likely to be the best he could get out of his _heroic_ son, but as a father he didn't have to like it. "Back to the offense list." He said, pulling matters back to what he was more comfortable with. "Deliberate disobeying, breaking out of the hospital wing," He ignored Harry's indignant noise there, "Breaking into the ministry of magic, leaving Hogwarts, and battling Death Eaters." James finished, "Do I have it all?"

"Yeah." Harry admitted, "That's basically it." He ignored it when James narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the statement, and didn't volunteer any more information.

Deciding to let that go, James nodded briskly. "Now, there are a number of things to keep in mind before punishment is sentenced. One, that has to be the strangest list of offenses a parent has ever had to work with."

Harry quirked a smile and laughed, "I'll give you that." He said, sounding less tense, which was exactly what James had been aiming for.

"Oh, well thank you mightily." James teased. "Also, I have to keep in mind that, while wrong, I have snuck out of the hospital wing many a time. Tonight, most recently."

"So we'll knock that off the list too?" Harry asked hopefully.

"No." James said. "It's firmly on this list. I'm just going to keep my own actions in mind."

"You're horrible." Harry said, sounding quite firm about it himself.

James smiled, "I know, aren't I?" Harry shook his head in response. "To prove the point further, I'm grounding you for a week."

"A week?" Harry repeated doubtfully.

"I'm also taking into consideration that you've probably never been grounded for real before." James admitted. What he didn't say was that he felt a bit strange at grounding someone himself. Perhaps he was easing them both into it. "This grounding entails the completion of all of your summer homework, which I imagine has been a bit neglected." He added when he saw the guilty flush of Harry's face. "Also, you will be in bed by nine each night. That doesn't just mean going to your dorm and playing around with Ron. I'll be checking in to make sure that you're sitting in your bed either reading or sleeping. You won't be able to sleep in either. I want you out of bed by eight every morning."

"Well, um, that doesn't seem so bad." Harry said slowly.

James winced then. "That's because I'm not quite finished. The grounding will last a week. Broom privileges will be revoked for, um…three weeks."

"You've got be kidding!" Harry cried. "Ron and I have been planning on getting a game together with everyone! And I wanted you and I to race again!"

"We will," James rushed to assure his shell-shocked offspring. He could oh-so-clearly remember his own feelings of complete depression when his own father had taken away his broom. It wasn't a nice feeling. Potters tended to be particularly avid flyers. "Just not for the next three weeks. Trust me, when it's up, we'll go flying all day if you like."

"This isn't fair at all. Sirius could have been killed if I didn't go to the Ministry." Harry huffed, crossing his arms. "Even he admitted it."

"I'm sure he also said that you could have been killed by going to the Ministry." James said. The look on Harry's face said that he had.

"I don't care," Harry said, sounding like he meant it. "I would do it again if it meant Sirius would be okay."

James let out a long breath and ran a hand along his hair. "I don't think you understand what you did at all, how serious it was. Somehow, I don't think you ever will. Not until you have children of your own, at least." James stopped talking for a moment. He sounded just like his own father. It was a frightening feeling.

"This is mad, you realize." Harry asked.

"From your point of view, probably. From Molly's or Remus', I'm letting you off easy." James point out. "And just think, now you'll be like all of your friends. Evil parents and all that."

Harry let a small smile slip out. Perhaps the honeymoon period wasn't quite over yet, James reasoned. "Yeah. I suppose so. Ron will be shocked."

"Probably not, you've really got to remember who his parents are." James said, "Hermione, however, will be wildly pleased."

Harry groaned, "I'm being grounded by my father, and I can't even find it in me to be that angry about it!"

"Give it a few more punishments," James advised, "Then you'll have no problem being angry."

"I'd imagine by the next one I'll be totally over this freakish problem." Harry said as he stood up. "Not that I'm not enjoying this torture session, but could we go back now. I don't fancy meeting up with Madame Pomfrey."

"You're probably right." James conceded. "Let's go." He stood up and followed his eager son out the door. James stopped him as he started walking further down the hall. "Harry, you know I'm willing to listen anytime, right?"

Harry stopped and sighed. "I know. But Dad…I really just can't yet. The prophecy…" He broke off and sighed. James reached a hand up to clasp Harry's shoulder.

"All right." He said, letting the teen off the hook for a bit longer.

Harry gave a tense smile, "I'll wake you up in the middle of the night when I'm ready, okay?"

James laughed, "Sure. I'm willing." He turned Harry back in the direction of the Hospital Wing and threw an arm around his shoulders as they started walking. "Now, on to more important matters."

"Oh, such as?" Harry said, smiling more than ever now. It was as if they hadn't just had an emotionally draining father-son bonding session. James knew better than to believe that Harry was suddenly okay. He was on his way to it though, and that was enough.

He pushed those types of thoughts aside and gave a side glace to his son. "Well, I happen to have some very secret privileged information."

"Do tell." Harry teased and played along.

"Well, you didn't hear this from me, but there's a birthday coming up very very soon." James whispered. Harry let out a snort at the reveal.

"Is that so?" He asked. "Well, what sorts of gifts do you think we should get him?"

James pretended to consider it for a bit. "I don't know. I was personally thinking that maybe a good set of encyclopedias would be amazing."

Harry cuffed his father on the back of the head. "Try again."

James gave a long-suffering sigh, "No? Well, what do _you_ think would be a good gift?"

"Oh, I don't know." Harry said slowly. James sensed that something he wouldn't like was coming up. He decided to label the feeling father's intuition. "I think tickets to a professional quidditch game sound lovely."

"Really?" James said quietly. They were getting closer to the infirmary. On the off chance no one had noticed their disappearance, he wasn't about to spoil their adventure by waking someone up.

Harry caught his intention and whispered back, "Of course, castles are always nice gifts."

"You've got to be kidding now!" James exclaimed. "A castle?"

"Now, if you want to be skimpy on it, a flying motorbike sounds about right." Harry smoothly cut in.

"Absolutely not." James said as firmly as he could. "Your mother would come back from the dead to beat me."

Harry smirked, "Then I guess I'll just have to talk to Sirius about it. He'd be the one to ask, right?"

Before James could say anything – or rather, threaten his son with bodily harm – the doors to the Hospital Wing burst open. Harry and James both stopped suddenly, surprised by the commotion.

One very sleepy looking Sirius Black ran out of the Infirmary with Remus hot on his heels. "No I will not get back into bed, you idiot. If Harry and James have been kidnapped then I'm doing something about it!"

"Sirius!" Remus groaned. "Would you just think ab…" Remus broke off at the sight of both of the Potters, who looked a bit like they were going to fall over from either shock or amusement. "Would you just look ahead?"

Sirius finally stopped running when he saw them both. Madame Pomfrey rushed out of the hospital wing behind them muttering about escapees. For a second, no one spoke.

Then, Harry and James promptly burst out laughing.

* * *

_I'm sorry for the long wait for the chapter. I hadn't intended to take so long. I hit a bit of a rut in the start of the chapter, and then I got sidetracked by the cursed college admissions process. Please forgive? _

_In other news: We have a Book 7 title! And a date! There was a lot of talk about it coming out on my birthday (the 7th of July), so I'm really relieved that this isn't the case. I would have to spend the entire day reading the book, and that's kind of a sad way to spend your 18th birthday, don't you think? _

_I hope you enjoyed the chapter, as it gave me hell! _

_Review! _

_**Stars Enchantress**_

_Coming Next in the Return of the Father: Chapter Forty Three – Best Friends_


	43. Until the End

**The Return of the Father:** Until the End

-000-

_**Thank you to all of the (incredibly patient) wonderful readers and reviewers. **__This is a shock to me too, since I'd thought the disk that had my backup outlines was lost for good. The outline, I feel, needs a bit of overhaul, but luckily this chapter was safe to stay as was. I honestly can't apologize enough for my awful writer's block.  
_

_**I imagine nothing I could post would be worth the two years wait, but I'd think you'd rather I just post SOMETHING rather than nothing at all. **__Unfortunately, I stopped at a chapter where not a whole lot is going on, so I've resigned myself to the inevitable "we waited years for this!" but I hope, for the most part, you find something to like in this chapter. _

_Enjoy._

_**

* * *

**_

**_- Outside Hogwarts_**

"Poppy is going to be angry." Remus pointed out, sounding resigned but not entirely concerned.

"As long as I leave Harry with her, she's going to count her blessings." James countered, tilting his face to the sun. In Scotland, even in summer, sunlight was to be treasured. Sitting in the hospital wing while it rained wasn't much of a hardship, but while it was sunny? Unthinkable.

Sirius nodded, "She's probably glad to be rid of us for an hour or two."

James nodded absently, eyes staring ahead but not quite taking anything in.

"James?" Remus asked, almost hesitant. He had certainly seen James being serious, even more so with the birth of Harry and his own re-birth, but time smoothed memories out and in his head James had been firmly seventeen for quite a while. Seeing him so… despondently serious and almost tired looking was strange, especially when the action was currently over.

James turned to Remus, "He still won't talk to me about the prophecy."

"Oh." Remus said, feeling unintelligent. Beside him, Sirius grew tense. "It's only been less than two days since he found out the truth, James. You can't be too worried."

"My son is fated to kill or be killed." James barked out a harsh laugh. "And I just had to let the Headmaster who essentially signed him up for child abuse tell him about it. Of course I'm bloody worried."

Sirius winced and leaned forward to place an arm around James's shoulders. "I want to say I understand and feel the same, but I _can't_, so I won't. But still, I love Harry. He's a strong boy, James. If anyone could cope, it's him."

"He shouldn't have to."

Remus gave James a tight smile, "We can wish all we want. _He_ can wish all he wants. It won't change anything."

"The best you can do is be there for him, when he is ready to talk. This isn't going to be something easily processed, Prongslet will need time." Sirius said, feeling like a useless self-help book. So cliché, yet so idiotically true…

James nodded shakily. "I told him he could tell Ron and Hermione. I hope he will."

"You think he'll tell them about it?" Sirius asked. He knew what he would have done in Harry's situation, namely, tell his friends instantly, but he often had to remind himself that Harry wasn't them and everything he did wasn't going to tie back to who his parents were.

James shrugged. "I hope so, even if I'd rather he talked to me about it." He let out a shuddering breath and clenched his jaw, trying to compose himself, for reasons unknown to his friends – as if they would judge him. "I'm learning more about him every minute I'm with him, but now when it's most important, I don't know how he's feeling or if he can accept this… I don't know _him!" _

Remus grabbed James' hand, worried the younger man was about to fall into some sort of hysteria. He almost blushed at his own dramatic interpretation, but James seemed so genuinely shaken it worried him. "We don't know either. Ron and Hermione probably wouldn't even know. This is beyond anything Harry has ever had to contemplate. We're all going to fly blind."

"I shouldn't be." James said with conviction.

"No, you shouldn't." Sirius agreed, "You shouldn't even be sitting here. You have to let it go, or you'll never move forward."

James sighed, "I'm trying. It's easier said than done, Padfoot. You try hurtling through time in what seems to you like the blink of an eye."

"Hmm… sounds better than sitting in a cell while time crawls past you." Sirius said, not depressed or as though he wanted to compete with James. He just sounded like he was giving an opinion, which heartened the other two, even in the middle of such a tense conversation.

"You two can't seriously be arguing about who is working to adjust with the worse set of circumstances." Remus said, giving the two his best professor-glare. They ignored it, as they had been trying to do of late. They were still not entirely sure what to do with Professor Lupin, besides mocking him, of course.

Sirius smiled, but James didn't. Clearing his throat awkwardly, Sirius gave a quick glance to Remus before darting his eyes back down to his lap. "Did you and Lily ever have a plan on how to tell Harry?"

James didn't quite freeze, but the effect of his wife's name was obvious all the same. For Harry, James had been trying to put up a brave front and keep his mother alive for his son. Alone, he grieved for her so intensely he wasn't sure if he was ever going to be able to heal or think of her without a pang going through his whole body.

"You can tell me to sod off if you want, Prongs." Sirius offered when the silence stretched on.

James shook his head, but neither Sirius nor Remus was sure what he was denying. After another moment, James spoke, "We didn't know quite what we were going to tell him. We were using everything we had just to keep him safe." James raised his eyes to his friend's faces. "We thought we had time to figure it out."

"You still do." Remus said gently, "Not the amount of time you'd like, but as long as Harry is thinking about it, you can too. He'll want to talk to you eventually, that much I know. It's a lot to take in, especially when he's had to deal with so much already."

"I supposed I'd be a whining git if I said it wasn't fair that this gets piled onto him too?" James mused aloud. Sirius relaxed beside him and Remus, who had always used the creepy intuition that James and Sirius had always had with each other to gauge a situation, felt himself relax to. He wasn't sure what exactly they'd said that had reassured James, but he was glad they'd said it all the same.

"You would be." Sirius said with confidence. "Even Harry would say so, and he's a teenager. They're prone to wild fits of self-pity."

Remus grinned, remembering Sirius when he'd been that way. Of course, Sirius had last been that way when Madame Pomfrey had forced a nasty potion down his throat that morning. "You'll have to keep reminding him about all the good things he's got."

"Like a father who's already reconsidering his punishment?" James asked sheepishly.

Sirius laughed, but Remus could do no more than drop his head into his hands.

**_-__ Hospital Wing_**

"_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... And the Dark Lord will mark him as equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives."_

"_That's me, isn't it, Dad?" Harry asked, valiantly keeping his voice steady. Somehow, it seemed so fitting, so obvious…_

_James knelt beside his son, "Yes." He answered simply. _

"Harry?"

Startled, Harry glanced across the aisle. "Yeah, Ron?"

The redhead eyed his friend carefully. With a quick, vitally important, glance around the wing to ensure that Madam Pomfrey had retreated, he slid out of his bed and crossed the room. "You okay?" He asked as he sat down next to Harry.

Harry shrugged, was he okay? It should be an easy question. How could anyone be okay after finding out what he'd just discovered? "I guess." He answered thickly.

"Don't look it." Ron observed leaning back against the bed. "Come on, practically no one's around."

"What's that got to do with anything?" Harry asked, pulling himself from the covers. Ron's comment, while irrelevant, was certainly true. Most people had been let out of the wing by morning. They were nearly the only ones around, which was a relief. He didn't have the energy to keep up some mask of normalcy.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Just tell me."

Harry sighed, "I can't." He answered. This was, technically, a lie. Dumbledore had told him to keep things close to himself, yes, but James had told him that he could tell Ron and Hermione. Even still, if Voldemort wanted to know so bad, he wouldn't stop at hurting them to get the information.

"If you're all upset over getting grounded, don't be. I'm grounded too." Ron revealed, sounding annoyed but fairly resigned. Harry felt his face flush, still unable to be upset with his father for grounding him. It was, he felt, more than a little pathetic.

"It's not that." He answered, and meant it. "Look, it's something to do with Voldemort and it boils down to him and me, at the end." He blurted and then looked away.

Ron was silent, but Harry could feel his eyes staring a hole into the side of his face. "Mate, if it's you at the end, then it's me at the end too." Ron said finally, saying it gently as though Harry had heard it before and it had upset him.

He shook his head, "You don't understand," He started, a little desperately. He couldn't even help it and he looked away again, sentence unfinished because near death sentence or not, he wasn't particularly keen on letting Ron see him cry.

"I don't need to." Ron countered firmly. "Why would I?"

Harry shrugged, trying to make it casual and knowing he was completely failing. "I meant what I said, it's got to be me."

There was some shifting next to him and then Ron was there, draping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him in a bit closer. Sort of like George and Fred, sort of like Sirius and his father…

"And I meant what I said," Ron countered. "Harry, maybe it's got to be you that says the words and casts the spell, but it don't mean that I won't be next to you while you do it."

He couldn't help but feel vaguely touched at such a promise, even if this entire situation filled him with a not so vague feeling of unease. He took in a shuddering breath, "Not if you're dead by then."

Ron nodded his head, as though he considered this sort of thing regularly. It wouldn't have been a shock of he did, Harry thought, a little bitter, since so many of the people close to him had a nasty habit of dying.

"It'd be worth it in the end, though, wouldn't it?" Ron said, decision apparently made. "I mean, going heroically for the good of your world or your friends or your family… that can't be the worst way."

Since Harry had always privately agreed with that sort of sentiment, he couldn't really refute it. What he could do, however, was to mention what would now become one of his deepest fears. If it all came down to him, if everyone was counting on him to save them… "What if I fail? Still think dying for me would be worth it?"

"Yeah, Harry, I would." Ron said, without missing a beat. "It's got to be how it is between best mates, though, right?"

"I wouldn't blame you…" He started, trailing off with the offer that he only half-wished Ron would take him up on.

Ron snorted, "I'm not even going to answer that."

Harry smiled a little at that. "How lame am I?" He asked, not rhetorically, "He's done so much. He killed my parents and so many people. He's… Merlin, he's fucking evil and anyone… _anyone_ would gladly step up to bat and end him if they could. And I'm sitting here not sure I want to be a murderer, not sure I could even do it."

" 'S'not lame." Ron whispered, "It's probably why it's got to be you."

"If this is going to end some good-versus-evil, I'm a bloody shining beacon of hope pep talk I'm going to throw up on you." Harry laughed hoarsely.

Ron laughed too, his shoulder knocking against Harry's. "I just mean, it's going to take a lot, isn't it? The shit they'll have to teach you? No way is it going to be sweetness and light. It can't be, I'd bet."

"So?" Harry asked.

"It's going to be a lot of power and if I can think of any bloke that could do it and not wreck themselves on it," He paused then shrugged. "It's you, mate."

Harry wasn't quite sure what to say to that. Ron believed in him, his father believed in him, Sirius, Remus and Hermione too. Dumbledore might've been grave when he revealed the truth to him, but Harry could see it in his eyes. They all thought he could do it. How could they be so sure when he was nearly as positive that he would fail? Maybe he'd been lucky before, and maybe he was brave where others weren't, but at that didn't match up to the magical knowledge Voldemort had, or how long he'd been fighting against some of the best that the Wizarding World had to offer. He was a teenager, and not even one with the most brilliant of grades.

The prophecy mentioned a power that the Dark Lord knew not, but whatever it was it was something that Harry knew not too. Maybe it would come to him, but thus far he couldn't see how it would.

His mother's love had saved him at the start, Hermione's cleverness had pulled him through, Ron's loyalty had bolstered him when he seemed to be gone and Dumbledore's training (because god, how could he have not realized that was what his entire school career had been thus far?) had taught him to think quickly and not too hard on the consequences. His own personality had a hand, sure, but it wasn't going to carry him through a war. The others couldn't hold his hand and feed him the answer to this.

He was quite literally on his own.

_But you're not though, not now. Your father, godfather and friends would all rush in after you, no matter how unprepared you were and they'd die for you. You'd let them too, wouldn't you? Just to keep them close…_

The traitorous thought came unbidden, making his chest ache. He would, he _would_ keep his father with him, even though it was probably going to kill him _again._ A half strangled sob rose up in him and he couldn't hold it back.

"Come on, it's okay." Ron soothed awkwardly. He shook Harry with the arm around his shoulders, just a little, as though to shake him from whatever he'd been thinking.

Just the sound of Ron's voice - his best friend who was not the most emotionally present of blokes - trying to keep him from crying had the complete opposite effect. Another sob slipped out.

"You can't change it now." Ron reminded, "So there's no use getting upset."

"I can't beat him, Ron." Harry said, thickly. "I'm not nearly a match for him."

Ron shook his head, "You're better. And you've got me and 'Mione, as far as we can go with you. I swear."

"You'll be killed and… "

"Shh…" Ron whispered, cutting him off. "You'll get Pomfrey out here after me for starting this up." He said, glancing towards the Mediwitch's door. "It's our choice, Harry. You can't predict how it'll turn out, you'll kill yourself with the worry."

Harry could see the merit to that, certainly. Death by worry seemed entirely reasonable to him in that moment. "It will be my fault."

"It'll be Voldemort's fault, or one of his Death Eaters, but not yours, Harry. You didn't pick this, but I pick you and Hermione will too." Ron said.

Harry took deep, controlled breaths, trying to get himself under control. He could already tell that Ron didn't fault his tears, and somehow that helped.

"Wanna play a game of chess?" Ron offered suddenly, apparently done with the conversation.

Harry burst out laughing. God, he loved his friends.

* * *

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_**Update schedules are uncertain…**_


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